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TRANSLATED BY 



THOMAS CONEAD POETEE. 







NEW YOEK: 
RIKER, THORNE & CO, 

129 FULTON STREET. 







Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight 
hundred and fifty-four, by 

RIKER, THORNE & CO., 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Southern district of New York. 



U. CRAIGHEAD, Printer cmd Stereotyper, 
53 Vesey street, New York. 



PEEFACE. 



The treatment which this exquisite poem of Goethe has 
received at my hands may appear to the scholar to savor of 
vandalism or sacrilege. The great bard forgive me ! But 
I have this plea to offer: The verse of the original is 
hexameter, at best an almost unmanageable metre in our 
language. To translate it into the same verse, therefore, 
is beyond the skill even of a Longfellow; to translate it 
into another would destroy one of its principal charms. So 
that if English readers are ever to enjoy this beautiful 
creation of genius, the poetic form must, in any case, be 
sacrificed. And yet, unlike many works of art, its chief 
value does not rest in the form only, perfect as that is. A 
golden statue, wrought out with curious and elaborate 
skill by the hand of a master, loses, it is true, its artistic 
worth and beauty in the furnace, but the gold remains ; so 
Goethe's rhyme, when melted into English prose, is Goethe 
still — the idyl is still idyllic* 



\ 



Calliope. 



fatt ntxtt Itjtttpatfjg. 



" Never before have I seen the square 
and the streets so lonely ! The town is as 
empty as if swept by a plague ! Of all our 
people I do not believe there are fifty left. 
What will not curiosity do! Everybody 
has hurried off to look on the sorrowful 
procession of the poor exiles, though it is 
a good hour's walk down to the pier, where 
they are landing, and the road is hot and 
dusty. Catch me stirring from my seat to 
witness the misery of the wretched fugi- 
tives, who, flying from their beautiful 
country beyond the Rhine, come over to 
us, with what goods they were able to 



10 Hermann anh JBoxotliza.U 

save, and now journey through the wind- 
ings of our fruitful valley. 

" You did right and kindly, wife, in send- 
ing our son out to the poor folks with old 
linen, victuals, and drink, for it is the duty 
of the rich to give alms. How the boy 
drives! How bravely he manages the 
horses ! And the little coach— the new 
one — looks very well ; four can easily sit 
in it, besides the coachman on the box. 
This time he drove alone ; how lightly it 
rolled round the corner !" 

Thus spake to his wife the landlord of 
the Golden Lion, comfortably seated under 
the gateway of his house, which fronted on 
the market-square. 

And the prudent housewife answered : 

" Father, I always dislike to give away 
old linen, because it can be used for so 
many purposes, and is not to be had for 
money, when one needs it. Yet to-day I 



fate aub Sgmpattjg. 11 

cheerfully parted with a number of good 
pieces in coats and shirts, when I heard of 
the children and the old people, who are 
going naked yonder. But will you forgive 
me ? Your chest has been plundered too. 
The dressing-gown with the Indian flowers, 
made of fine calico, and lined with flannel 
— I gave that away. It was thin and old, 
and altogether out of fashion." 

But the excellent husband smiling re- 
plied : 

" I am sorry to lose it — the old chintz- 
gown. It was real East India stuff, such 
as cannot be had again. Well ! I was done 
wearing it. Now-a-days, the gentleman 
must show himself in frock-coat and boots ; 
slippers and caps are cried down." 

" Look !" said the wife, " some of those, 
who went out to see the procession, are 
coming back already; it must be nearly 
past. See, how dusty their shoes are ! 



12 fetmann attir $3oxott)ta. 

how their faces glow ! and how each one 
carries his handkerchief and wipes the 
sweat off ! Catch me running so far, and 
suffering in this heat, to gaze on a spectacle 
like that ! I will have enough in hearing 
about it." 

Then the good father added, with em- 
phasis : 

" We seldom have such weather and 
such a harvest. The hay is dry and in the 
mow ; the sky is clear, and not a cloud to 
be seen, and the wind blows from the east 
with a delightful coolness. The weather is 
settled, and the grain is over-ripe. To- 
morrow we must begin to cut." 

As he spake, the crowds of men and 
women, who were hastening homewards 
over the square, increased more and more. 
And with them came their rich neighbor, 
the wealthiest merchant of the place, driv- 
ing briskly with his daughters in an open 



Sate anh Sgmjiatfja. 13 

carriage (it was made in Landau) up to the 
door of his newly-repaired dwelling, on the 
other side of the market-square. The 
streets grew lively, for the town was well 
peopled, and many trades and manufactures 
were carried on there. 

And thus the honest couple sat under the 
gateway, amusing themselves with various 
remarks on the passers-by. At length, the 
worthy housewife exclaimed : 

" Look ! yonder comes the preacher and 
our neighbor, the apothecary, with him ; they 
shall tell us all they have seen, and what is 
painful to behold." 

The two advancing, greeted the married 
pair in a friendly manner, shook the dust 
off their feet, and sat down on the wooden 
bench under the gateway, fanning them- 
selves with their handkerchiefs the while. 
After the exchange of salutations, the 
apothecary first spake, in a half-angry tone : 



14 §cxmann an% SDorotfyea. 

" Such things, indeed, men are ! and they 
are all alike in this, that every one delights 
in gaping and gazing on the misfortunes of 
his neighbor ! This one runs to see the 
flames tower up in their destructive fury, 
and that one to look on a criminal led forth 
to the gallows, whilst another walks now a 
great distance to pry into the misery of 
worthy exiles, and nobody dreams that a 
similar fate may sooner or later overtake 
him. I find such thoughtlessness unpar- 
donable ; and yet it belongs to human 
nature." 

The noble-minded young pastor, the or- 
nament of the town, immediately replied. 
He understood life well, knew the wants of 
his hearers, was thoroughly impressed with 
the great excellence of the Holy Scriptures, 
which reveal to us the natural disposition 
and destiny of man, and at the same time 



JaU anh Sgrnpatfyg. 15 

was at home also among the best profane 
authors. He said : 

"I do not like to find fault with the inno- 
cent propensities which good mother Na- 
ture has given us ; for what reason and 
understanding are not able to accomplish, 
we are oftentimes led to irresistibly by some 
happy instinct. Did not curiosity allure 
man by its powerful charms, say ! would he 
ever find out how beautifully the things of 
the world stand related to each other ? For, 
at first he desires that which is new, then 
seeks with untiring industry that which is 
useful ; at last he longs after the good, 
which renders him noble and worthy. To 
the youth, levity is a joyful companion, who 
conceals danger from him, and obliterates, 
with a hand of healing, the traces of misfor- 
tune, as soon as it is over. Indeed, the 
man deserves praise, in whose riper years a 



16 fyzxmann anh Woxoityza. 

solid understanding is developed from such 
a cheerful disposition, who exerts himself 
actively and zealously in prosperity as well 
as adversity ; for he creates that which is 
good, and makes amends for that which is 
evil." 

Here broke in the impatient housewife : 
" Tell us what you saw, for that is what 
I most wish to hear about. 9 ' 

" Not soon," began the apothecary, 
" will I recover my spirits after what I have 
this day seen. Who can describe the 
manifold misery ! Long before our descent 
into the meadows we caught glimpses of a 
distant cloud of dust, but could distinguish 
little of the procession, which stretched in- 
visibly from hill to hill. When we reached 
the highway, that runs obliquely through 
the valley, the press of the crowd and the 
noise of the wagons were very great. 
And then, alas ! we saw enough of the poor 



Sate anh Sgtnpatljs • 17 

wretches going by, and were able to learn 
from individuals how bitterly painful their 
flight was, and yet how joyful are the feel- 
ings of him, who barely escapes with his 
life. It was sad to see the heaps of goods 
from a single well-ordered house, where, 
under the care of a good landlord, they 
stood in their right places, ever ready for 
use, now tumbled together into various carts 
and wagons. Across the cupboard lies 
the sieve and the woollen coverlet ; the bed 
in the dough-tray, and the sheets on the 
top of the looking-glass. Ah ! danger — as 
we found at our great fire twenty years ago 
— deprives men of all sense, so that they 
carry off things of little worth, and leave 
the most valuable behind. So here they 
drove on without reflection — horses and 
oxen breaking down under loads of the 
vilest stuff — old boards and barrels, the 
goose-stall and the bird-cage. The women 
2 



18 tyztmann anft ^oxotljza. 

and children also groaned, dragging them- 
selves along under bundles, baskets, and 
tubs, filled with articles of no manner of 
use, for men are always loth to give up 
even the meanest of their property. And 
thus over the dusty road the crowding pro- 
cession travelled on without order or plan. 
One, with weak animals, wished to drive 
slowly — -another, with stronger, to go faster. 
Then arose the cries of women and chil- 
dren, squeezed almost to suffocation, the 
lowing of cattle, mingled with the barking 
of dogs, and the moaning of the old and 
sick, who, sitting on beds, were rocked to 
and fro high up on the heavy, overloaded 
wagons. The creaking wheel of one of 
them, pushed out of the rut, gave way on 
the edge of the road, and overturned it into 
the ditch. With frightful screams the 
people were flung far into the field, but, as 
luck would have it, the boxes rolled out 



fate anir Sgmpatijp. 19 

last, and fell nearer the wagon. Any one, 
who had seen the accident, would have 
thought them crushed under the chests and 
cupboards. And so they lay helpless be- 
side the broken wagon ; for the others 
hastened by, thinking only of themselves, 
and carried along with the stream. We 
ran quickly up and found the old and sick, 
who could hardly endure their prolonged 
sufferings at home in their own beds, lying 
here on the ground, bruised, groaning, and 
lamenting, burned by the sun, and choked 
by the moving dust." 

The kind-hearted host, touched by the 
story, said : 

" I only hope that Hermann may over- 
take them with the clothing and provisions. 
For myself, I would not like to see them; 
the sight of misery pains me. As soon as 
we heard of such great suffering, we 
promptly sent a trifle from our abundance, 



20 tyzxmann anb $Soxol\)na. 

to have the satisfaction of helping at least 
some of them. But, let us talk no more 
about these sorrowful scenes, for fear soon 
creeps over the heart of man, and forebod- 
ing, which I hate more than trouble itself. 
Walk into the little back parlor— it is quite 
cool ; the sun never shines into it, and the 
warm air is kept out by the thick walls — 
and mother shall bring us a cup of three- 
and-eighty, to drive away the blues. It is 
not sociable to drink here ; the flies gather 
about the glasses." 

And they went in, and were all delighted 
with the coolness. 

Soon after, the mother entered, carefully 
bearing, on a smooth pewter-salver, the rich, 
clear wine in a shining bottle, along with 
rummers of green glass, genuine cups of 
Rhenish. And the three drew up beside 
the brown table polished with wax. It was 
of a circular shape, and stood on huge 



Sate anh Qgrnpatfyg. 21 

claw-feet. The glasses of the landlord and 
the pastor rang together, but the third held 
his without motion, buried in thought ; 
whereupon the host addressed him in a 
friendly humor : 

" Cheerily drunk, sir neighbor ! for God 
has hitherto graciously preserved us from 
evil, and will preserve us likewise in the 
future. For, who does not know that, since 
the dreadful fire, by which He scourged us 
so severely, He has never failed to gladden 
and protect us, as a man protects the apple 
of his eye, which is dearer to him than all 
the rest of his body? And will He not 
continue thus to guard and help us ? For 
men see clearly how much He is able to 
do, only in times of danger. Will He again 
destroy all our labor, and lay waste the 
flourishing town, which, through the hands 
of an industrious people, He first built up 



22 Hermann anh SDarcrtljea. 

anew from the ashes, and then so richly 
blessed? 59 

" Hold firm to that faith !* cried the mild, 
excellent pastor ; " cherish that disposition, 
for it will render you wise and secure in 
prosperity, and yield you the best comfort, 
and cheer you with the brightest hopes in 
the hour of trial." 

Then continued the landlord, in his man- 
ly, sensible way : 

" How often have I hailed with wonder 
the flood of the Rhine, when, travelling 
on business, I again drew near its shores ! 
It always struck me as a grand and inspiring 
object, but I never dreamed that its lovely 
bank would soon become a wall, and its 
broad bed an effective moat to keep off the 
French. Lo ! Nature protects us, the 
brave Germans and the Lord; who will 
give way to foolish fears ? The armies are 
weary of fighting, and everything promises 



£ait anh Sjjmpatljg". 23 

peace. When that festival, so long wished 
for, is celebrated in our church, the bell 
pealing out to the organ, and the' trumpet 
mingling its note with the lofty Te Beam — 
on that day, it is the desire of my heart to 
see Hermann stand before you, sir pastor, 
with a bride at the altar, and then will this 
happylestival, kept by all the nations, be- 
come to me also the anniversary of house- 
hold joys. But I do not like to see the 
bov, who at home is active and stirring 
enough, so slow and bashful abroad. He 
takes little pleasure in going out into 
society; yes, even avoids the company of 
the maidens, and the merry dance, which 
all young folks delight in.' 9 

He spake, and listened. The distant 
noise of trampling hoofs was heard, and 
presently the rolling of the carriage, which, 
driven at great speed, now thundered 
through the gateway. 



Sum an it. 



As the son, a handsome youth, now 
entered the chamber, the preacher turned 
on him a keen look, and considered his 
form and entire bearing with the eve of an 
observer, well skilled in reading features ; 
then smiled, and gave him a cordial saluta- 
tion : 

" Why ! you come back a changed man ! 
I have never seen you so cheerful, and your 
look so lively ; you return happy and joy- 
ful ; it is easy to see you have distributed 
the gifts among the poor, and received their 
blessing." 

In a quiet, yet earnest tone, the son re- 
plied : 



28 Hermann anh SDoratljea. 

" I do not know if I deserve praise, but 
my heart prompted me to act as I will now 
tell you. Mother, you rummaged so long, 
hunting up and choosing out the old pieces, 
that it was late before the bundle was 
ready ; the w T ine and beer also were slowly 
and carefully packed. At length, when I 
passed from the gate into the highroad, the 
crowds of citizens, with their wives and 
children, were already streaming back 
against me ; for the procession of the exiles 
had, by this time, travelled further on. I 
hastened towards the village, where I heard 
they intended to stop, and rest over night. 
As I took the new road in my way, I spied 
a wagon, made of solid poles, drawn by a 
pair of huge, foreign oxen, and, beside it, 
walking with firm step, a maiden, who 
guided the powerful brutes with a long 
stick, now stopping them and now urging 
them on with great skill and caution. 



£ait awb Ssmpatljs. 29 

When she saw me, she came up fearlessly 
beside the horses, and said : 

" ' We were not always so miserable as 
you see us here to-day, and I am not ac- 
customed to begging; gifts from a stranger, 
which he often bestows unwillingly, merely 
to get rid of the poor ; but necessity forces 
me to speak. There, on the straw, lies the 
wife of a wealthy landholder, whom I, with 
the steers and w agon, could scarcely save. 
A new-born babe, of which she has just 
been delivered, is lying naked in her arms. 
We cannot go fast, for she is barely alive ; 
and even when we have reached the next 
village, where we intend staying for the 
night, our own people, if indeed they are 
still there, will be able to render but little 
help. If you belong to this neighborhood, 
and have any pieces of spare linen, it would 
be an act of charity to bring them to the 
poor creatures.' 



30 §cxmann anh ^otatl)ca. 

" Thus she spoke. The sick woman, pale 
and feeble, raised herself from the straw and 
looked at me. Then I said, in reply : 

" ' Surely, an angel must put it into the 
hearts of good men to feel the want which 
assails their suffering brethren; for mother, 
with a presentiment of your distress, gave 
me a bundle exactly suited to your case. 9 

" And I loosened the knots of the string, 
and handed out to her father's dressing- 
gown, the shirts, and the linen. Full of 
joy, she thanked me, and cried : 

" ' The rich do not believe that miracles 
are yet wrought ; for in poverty alone we 
recognise the finger of God, who leads 
good men to do good deeds. May He do 
to you, as He through you has done to us !' 

" And I saw the sick woman pleased with 
the linen-clothes, and feeling the soft flan- 
nel of the dressing-gown. The maiden said 
to her : 



jFaU anh B$mpati)$. 31 

" ' Let us hasten to the village, where our 
companions are resting, and intend to pass 
the night. There I will prepare all that is 
needful for the child. 9 

" After dropping a polite courtesy, and ex- 
pressing her warmest thanks, she goaded 
the oxen, and the wagon started on. But 
I sat still, holding in the horses ; for there 
was a debate in my mind, whether I should 
go to the village and distribute the victuals 
among the rest of the people, or give them 
at once to the maiden, trusting to her fair- 
ness and prudence. I soon decided the 
matter, and, driving gently after, overtook 
her, and said : 

" ' My good girl, mother not only gave me 
clothing for the naked, but much food and 
drink besides. I have plenty in the car- 
riage-box, and am inclined to put these 
gifts also into your hands, and thus best 
fulfil my errand, sure that you will know- 



32 §zxmann anh ZHotottyza. 

ingly share them aright, where I could only 
do it by accident.' 

" Then she answered : 

" ' I will honestly deal out your gifts, to 
the great joy of the needy.' 

" So she said, and I quickly opened the 
boxes of the carriage, drew out the heavy 
hams, drew out the bread, the bottles of 
wine and beer, and gave her everything. 
Gladly would I have given her more, but 
the box was empty. She packed it all at 
the feet of the sick woman, and again 
started on, whilst I hastened back to town 
with my horses." 

When Hermann had ended, the talkative 
neighbor immediately began : 

"He is lucky, who, in these days of 
flight and bewilderment, lives alone in his 
house, who has no frightened wife and chil- 
dren clinging to his side ! I am just so, 
and would not, for a good deal, be called 



tyzxmann. 33 

father to-day, and have a wife and little 
ones to care for. I have often thought 
about flying, and have packed up my 
valuables — the old coin, and the chains of 
my sainted mother, of which nothing has 
yet been sold. Nevertheless, I would have 
to leave much behind that cannot be car- 
ried so easily. The herbs and roots it 
cost me such pains to gather, I would be 
loth to part with, though their real value 
is not very great, it is true. If my clerk 
stays, I can leave the house light of heart. 
Having saved my cash and my body, I have 
saved all ; it is easy for the single man to 
fly." 

"Neighbor," cried young Hermann, "I 
by no means agree with you ; I find fault 
with your speech. Is he a true man, who 
thinks of himself alone in times of prospe- 
rity and in times of danger, and does not 
know how to share in sorrows and in joys, 

3 



34 Hermann anb *Boxol\)ta. 

and is not moved to it from the bottom of 
his heart ? I would rather marry now than 
ever ; for many a good maiden needs a 
husband to protect her, and the husband 
a wife to cheer him, when misfortune 
lowers." 

Then the father said, with a smile : 
" That pleases me ! I have seldom heard 
you speak such a sensible word." 

" Indeed, son, you are right," was quickly 
added by the excellent mother. " We 
parents set you the example. Our match 
was not made in happy times, and the most 
sorrowful hours only knit us the closer to- 
gether. It was on a Monday morning, I 
remember it well; for that dreadful fire, 
which nearly destroyed our little town, hap- 
pened the day before — twenty years are 
gone since then ; it was Sunday as to-day, 
the season hot and dry, and a scarcity of 
water in the place. All the people had 



fyzxvxann. 85 

walked out in their holiday garments, and 
were scattered among the beer-houses and 
mills. And the fire broke out at the end 
of town. It ran rapidly through the streets, 
producing a great draught of wind ; and it 
burned the well-filled barns — and it burned 
the streets as far as the square, and my 
father's house, next here, was consumed, 
and this with it. /All that long and dreary 
night I sat on the green before the town, 
watching the chests and beds, but at last 
fell asleep, and when the cool morning air, 
which descends before sunrise, wakened 
me, I saw the smoke and flames, and the 
hollow walls and chimneys. Then I was 
very sad ; but the sun rose bright as ever, 
and comfort stole into my heart. I got up 
quickly. Something drew me to see the 
spot, where our dwelling had stood, and if 
the chickens had escaped. I loved them 
dearly, for I was yet a child in my feelings. 



36 fnmann anh TBoxoi^ta* 

As I now clambered over the ruins of the 
house and yard, which were still smoking, 
and looked on the waste and desolation, 
you came up on the other side, hunting 
about your place, A horse had been burned 
in the stable, which now lay a heap of fiery 
beams and rubbish, and there was nothing 
to be seen of the animal. And so we 
stood, opposite to each other, thoughtful 
and sad, for the wall that separated our 
yards had fallen. Then you took me by 
the hand, and said : ; Lizzie, what brought 
you here ? Go away ! You are burning 
your shoes ; the brands are hot, they even 
scorch my stouter boots.' And you lifted 
me up and carried me over through your 
yard. There stood the gateway of the 
house, just as it stands now ; of all, it alone 
had remained. And you set me down and 
kissed me, and I struggled against it. What 
vou then said was kind and full of meaning : 



^ertnattn. 37 

4 See, the house is down ! Stay here and 
help me to build it, and I will then help 
your father to build his too.' But I did 
not understand you, till you sent mother to 
father, and soon after we were married. 
Joyfully do I now call to mind the half- 
burnt timbers and the glorious sunrise, for 
that day gave me a husband, and those 
trying times the son of my youth. There- 
fore, I praise you, Hermann, for thinking 
with pure affection of a maiden, in these 
sorrowful times, and daring to rejoice in the 
midst of war and ruin." 

" Mother," gaily returned the father, "the 
idea is praiseworthy, and the story you tell 
is true ; it all happened just so. But better 
is better. Not every one has to begin life 
anew; not every one is obliged to trouble 
himself as we and others did. O, how 
lucky is he, who has a father and mother 
to hand over to him a house, already well- 



88 tyzxmann anh %Boxot\)ta. 

furnished, which he can improve and adorn 
as his means increase ! All beginnings are 
difficult ; but the most difficult of all is the 
beginning of house-keeping. The man 
needs many things, and they are all grow- 
ing dearer every day ; hence, let him look 
well to getting more money beforehand. 
And so, Hermann, I hope you will soon 
bring home a wife with a handsome dowry, 
for a brave lad deserves a girl with a good 
portion, and it is a great comfort, when 
along with the wished-for little woman 
come baskets and chests full of useful 
articles. Not in vain has the mother been 
many years in preparing for her daughter a 
stock of linen of the finest and strongest 
weaving ; not in vain do the god-parents 
procure for her presents of silver-plate, and 
the father lay aside in his desk the rare 
gold coin. It is that some day she may 
delight with her possessions and gifts the 



Hermann. 39 

youth, who has chosen her before all others. 
Yes, I know how pleasant it is for a young 
wife to find herself in a house, where she 
sees her own goods in kitchen and chamber, 
and the bed and table, which she herself 
has covered. I like to see a bride with a 
good dowry, for, after all, a man will come 
to despise a poor girl, and look upon her 
in the light of a servant, when, like a ser- 
vant, she enters the house with a bundle. 
Husbands are always hard to please, and 
the honey-moon is soon over. Yes, Her- 
mann, you will gladden my old age if you 
bring me a daughter-in-law from the neigh- 
borhood, from that house yonder, the green 
one. The man is very rich, and his busi- 
ness and his manufactures are daily making 
him richer; for what does not the mer- 
chant turn to profit ? There are only three 
daughters, and they will get all the fortune. 
The eldest is already engaged — I know it ; 



40 tyzxxaaxiu anb iBortftljeau 

but the second and the third are yet, and 
perhaps not long, to be had. Had I been 
in your place, I would not have waited till 
now, but carried off one of the girls, as I 
did your mother." 

Then the son modestly answered the 
urgent father :■ — 

" Indeed, it was once my intention to do 
what you now ask — to choose one of our 
neighbor's daughters. We were brought 
up together, played beside the fountain in 
the square in earlier days, and I often de- 
fended them from the rudeness of the boys. 
But that was long ago ; the growing girls 
rightly stay at home now, and shun such 
rough plays. Well-bred they are, to be 
sure ! I went occasionally to see them, on 
the score of old acquaintance, as you wished 
me ; but I never felt at ease in their com- 
pany, for they were continually finding 
fault with me. My coat was too long, the 



tyzxmann. 41 

stuff was too coarse, and the collar too 
common ; and my hair was not rightly 
trimmed and frizzled. At length I took a 
notion to dress myself up like the store- 
clerks, who always parade there on Sun- 
days, with half-silken lappets hanging 
around them in summer. But soon enough 
I saw they were making fun of me ; and 
that pained me. My pride was wounded ; 
yet it grieved me still more deeply, when I 
found they mistook the good -will I bore to- 
wards them, especially Minnie, the young- 
est. For, on Easter, the last time I went 
over there, I had on my new coat, which 
now hangs up stairs in the closet, and was 
combed and frizzled like the rest of the 
beaux. When I entered they began to 
titter ; yet I took no notice of it. Minnie 
was at the piano ; her father sat on the 
other side, delighted with the singing of his 
little daughter, and in an excellent humor. 



42 Hermann anh U)0r0tl)ea. 

There was much in the song that I did not 
understand ; but I heard a great deal about 
Painina and Tamino, and for want of some- 
thing to say, as soon as she had finished, I 
inquired about the words and the two per- 
sons. Then they were all silent, and 
smiled ; when the father said : ' Is it not so, 
my friend — you are only acquainted with 
Adam and Eve V And then they all burst 
out laughing, and the girls laughed loud, 
and the boys laughed, and the old fellow 
held his shaking sides. I was so ashamed 
that I let my hat fall ; and they kept up the 
titter all the time they played and sang. 
Mortified and angry, I hurried home, hung 
my coat in the closet, drew down my hair 
with my fingers, and swore never to enter 
their house again. And it is well I did ; 
for they are vain and heartless, and I hear 
that ever since I go among them by the 
name of Tamino." 



Hermann. 43 

Then the mother replied : 

" Hermann, you ought, not to keep angry 
with the children ; for they are all children 
together. Minnie is really kind, and was 
always fond of you ; of late, only, she in- 
quired after you. You ought to choose 
her." 

" I do not know," returned the son, 
thoughtfully ; " it vexed me so deeply that, 
indeed, I do not wish to see her at the 
piano, or hear her sing any more." 

But the father broke out in a violent pas 
sion : 

" Little joy have I had in you ! I al- 
ways said, since you take pleasure only in 
the horses and the farm, that you do no 
more than any hireling does for a wealthy 
landlord; meanwhile, the father must be 
deprived of a son to show himself as a boast 
and honor among the other citizens. And 
your mother long ago deceived me with 



44 fyzxmann anh fl}oxott)ea. 

vain hopes, when you never could keep up 
with your schoolmates in reading, writing, 
and learning. Just so ! that is the way, 
when no feeling of honor stirs in the bosom 
of a youth, and he has no ambition to rise 
in the world. If my father had taken as 
much pains with me, as I have with you — 
sent me to school and paid teachers for me, 
I would be something very different, I can 
tell you, from the landlord of the Golden 
Lion. 95 

The son rose up, and, without saying a 
word, drew near the door slowly and with- 
out noise ; but the father cried after him in 
a rage : 

" Get you gone ! I know your stubborn- 
ness ; go, fall to work, lest I scold you ; 
but do not think that you can ever bring a 
country-girl into my house as a daughter- 
in-law — the trollop ! I have lived long and 
know how to deal with men — know how to 



Hermann. 45 

play the host to gentlemen and ladies, so 
that thev 20 away satisfied ; I know how 
to flatter strangers agreeably. Therefore, 
I will have at last a little daughter-in-law to 
sweeten my many vexations; she shall play, 
too. on the piano for me ; and the finest 
and best folks in town shall be glad to 
assemble here, as they now do at the house 
of our neighbor on Sundays." 

Then the son softly pressed up the latch, 
and left the room. 



€Jr* Citmttff. 



Thus the son prudently withdrew from 
the wrathful speech of the father, who still 
continued as he had begun : " What is not 
in a man will not come out of him ; and I 
hardly expect the dearest wish of my heart 
will ever be fulfilled — to see the son not 
like, but better than the father. For what 
would the house be, what would the town 
be, if no one took pride in keeping up, 
altering and improving with the times ! 
Shall a man grow up out of the ground like 
a mushroom and rot away on the spot that 
produced- him, leaving behind no trace of 
his living activity ! Just as we confidently 

4 



50 tyzxmann ctnir Vborottjta. 

infer the disposition of a master from the 
state of his house, so do we judge of its 
authorities by walking through a town. 
Where the walls and towers are dilapidated, 
where dirt is heaped in the ditches and dirt 
lies around all the streets, where the stone 
is pushed out of the groove and never reset, 
where the beam decays and the house waits 
in vain for repairs, that place is badly go- 
verned. Where order and cleanliness do 
not work down from above, there the citizen 
as easily gets used to a draggled skirt as a 
beggar to his tattered clothes. Hence it 
has been my desire, that Hermann should 
visit at least Strasburg and Frankfort, and 
hospitable Mannheim, built so straight and 
fair. For he who has seen large and 
cleanly cities, will not cease, in the future, 
to embellish his native town, however small 
it may be. Does not the stranger praise us 
for mending the gates, painting the steeple 



&t)t Citizens. 51 

white, and refitting the church ? And who 
is not proud of the pavement, and the well- 
distributed covered canals, always full of 
water, bringing this advantage and security, 
that a fire can immediately be checked at 
its first outbreak ? All this has been done 
since the dreadful conflagration. Six times 
was I building-master in the Council, and 
have won the applause and hearty thanks 
of the good citizens. My own plans were 
diligently carried out as well as those of 
honest men, which had been left unfinished. 
At length the spirit of every member of the 
Council was roused. Now they all exert 
themselves ; and a new turnpike-road, to 
connect us with the great highway, is fully 
determined on. But I greatly fear our 
young men will never act thus ! The most 
of them think only of pleasure and idle 
show, and the rest lounge about the house, 
and sit stupid behind the stove. And I am 



52 Hermann anh Boxottyca. 

afraid Hermann will always be such a one 
for me." 

And the good, sensible mother, instantly 
made reply : " Father, you are always so 
unjust toward the boy, and in this very way 
can least hope for the fulfilment of your 
wishes. We cannot fashion children ac- 
cording to our notions ; as God gave them 
so are we bound to take them, and love 
them, and educate them, as we best can, 
and let each one follow the bent of his own 
natural disposition. One has this gift, 
another that ; and each uses it and is good 
and happy only in his own way. I am not 
going to scold my Hermann, for I know he 
is worthy of all you will ever leave him, and 
will yet turn out an excellent landlord, a 
pattern to citizens and country-people, and 
in the Council, I clearly foresee it, will not 
be behind any. But every day with scold- 
ing and fault-finding you crush all spirit in 



®!)e QLitiitUB. 53 

the bosom of the poor fellow, as you did a 
while ago." And she immediately left the 
room and hastened after her son, to seek 
him out and comfort him with kind words, 
for he, the excellent son, deserved it. 

As soon as she had gone, the father said 
with a smile : " The women are a wonderful 
people, as well as the children ; each one 
likes to follow her own fancy, and hereafter 
we must do nothing but praise and flatter. 
Once for all we may apply that true saying 
of the ancients : ' He who does not go for- 
ward must fall backward !' So is it !" 

" Sir neighbor," thoughtfully rejoined 
the apothecary, " I would own to what 
you have said and try to make improve- 
ments myself, but of what account is it to 
be active and stirring, to embellish inside 
and outside, if one has not the means ? The 
citizen is only too much hampered; the 
good he might do he is not able to accom- 



54 tyztmann anir ^oxot\\za. 

plish. His purse is too light, the want is 
too great ; and so he is always hindered. 
I would have done much; but who does 
not dread the cost of such alterations, espe- 
cially in these dangerous times ! Long 
since would my house have rejoiced in a 
modern garb j long since would large panes 
have glittered in the windows ; but who can 
rival the merchant, who, along with his 
fortune, knows how to get the best of every 
thing ? Only look yonder at his house, the 
new one ! How splendidly the white scrolls 
of stucco appear in the green panels ! The 
tables of the windows are large ; how the 
panes gleam and sparkle, throwing all the 
other houses of the square into the shade ! 
And yet, just after the fire, ours were the 
most beautiful, the apothecary's shop of the 
Angel and the Golden Lion. My garden 
also was celebrated through the whole 
country, and every traveller would stop and 



®f)£ Citizens. 55 

look through the pales at the stone-beggars 
and the painted dwarfs. Whoever took 
coffee with me in my splendid grotto, which 
is now indeed crumbling away and half- 
fallen, was highly delighted with the pris- 
matic hues of the beautifully-arranged shells, 
and even the connoisseur gazed with dazzled 
eye on the lead-ore and corals. The picture 
in the drawing-room, where the lords and 
ladies in their fine dresses are walking in a 
garden and plucking the flowers with their 
taper fingers, was likewise much admired. 
Yes, who now even looks at it ! I am so 
vexed that I seldom go out any more ; for 
every thing ought to be different and taste- 
ful as the word goes, and the laths and 
wooden benches white, all plain and smooth ; 
carving and gilding are no longer allowed, 
and the foreign wood costs a great deal. 
Now, I would be well satisfied to make 
some repairs, to keep up with the times, 



56 Hermann ani SDarotfyea. 

and often to alter the furniture of my house ; 
but a man is afraid to change the least 
thing, for who would be able to pay the 
working people ? Lately it came into my 
head, to have the Angel Michael, who is 
the sign of my shop, regilded, and the grim 
dragon, curling round his feet ; but I let 
him stand, brown as he is ; what was asked 
for the job frightened me." 



(tuterae, w 



Jfiutjjrr axiir hn. 



Thus the men talked among themselves* 
Meanwhile the mother went to look for her 
son, first before the house, on the stone- 
bench, where he usually sat. Not finding 
him there, she went to the stable, to see if 
he were attending to the spirited horses, 
which he had bought when colts, and never 
trusted to other hands than his own. And 
the groom told her : " He has gone into the 
garden/ 9 Then she trod briskly through 
the long double vards, left the stables and 
well-built barns in the rear, entered the 
garden, which stretched back to the wall of 
the town, and walking through it marked 



60 tyzxmann anh Boxotifca. 

with pleasure the growth of every plant. 
And as she went she straightened the props 
on which the loaded branches of the apple- 
tree and the burdened limbs of the pear- 
tree rested, and picked off caterpillars here 
and there from the fine, swelling heads of 
cabbage; for a busy housewife takes no 
step in vain. In this way she proceeded to 
the end of the long garden, to an arbor 
covered with honeysuckles ; yet found 
neither there, nor in the garden, any trace 
of her son — only the little gate, that led 
from the arbor, which an ancestor, a worthy 
burgomaster, had been permitted by special 
favor to cut through the wall of the town, 
now stood ajar. Passing out, she easily 
crossed over the dry moat to the well- 
hedged vineyard, which rose in a steeper 
slope from the very border of the highway, 
its terraces facing the sun. She walked 
into it also, and gazed with delight on the 



itt0tf)er anii Son. 61 

heavy bunches of grapes, scarce hidden by 
the leaves. The middle alley, up which she 
now climbed, was shaded by tall trees, over 
whose boughs ran intermingled vines of 
Gutedel and Muscatel, bearing purple clus- 
ters of an uncommonly large size, all plant- 
ed with care, to furnish a dessert for 
strangers. But the rest of the hill was 
covered with solitary plants, bearing small- 
er clusters, and of these the delicious wine 
was made. Thus she ascended, looking 
joyfully forward to autumn and its annual 
holiday, when the whole jubilant population 
gather the grapes, crush them under foot, 
and draw off the new wine into barrels. 
At evening, fireworks crackle and lighten 
on all sides, in honor of an abundant vin- 
tage. Bat she became uneasy, when, after 
having called her son two or three times, a 
multiplied echo only was returned from the 
spires of the town, ringing back a very 



62 Hermann anb $3otot\)ta. 

noisy answer. It was something so new 
for her to seek him ; he had never gone far 
from home, in order, as he said, to spare 
his loving mother anxiety and fear lest harm 
should befall him. Still, she hoped to find 
him somewhere on the way, for both the 
lower and the upper gates of the vineyard 
were open. And now she passed over into 
the domain, that stretched along the back 
of the hill in broad flats, treading all the 
while on their own soil, and rejoicing in 
their own rich crops and the bending grain, 
that waved around in golden beauty. She 
took the footpath through the grassy strip 
between the fields, keeping in her eye the 
large pear-tree, that stood on the hill-top 
and marked the boundary of the land be- 
longing to their house. No one knew who 
had planted it. It was visible far and wide, 
and famous for its fruit. Under it the reap- 
ers were accustomed to enjoy their noon- 



iJt0it)*r anir Bon. 63 

day meal and the herdsmen to watch their 
cattle in its shadow, on seats built of rough 
stones and turf. And she did not err; for 
there sat Hermann and rested, sat with 
folded arms and seemed to be gazing into 
the distant region toward the mountains, 
his back to his mother. Stealing softly up 
she touched him on the shoulder ; he turned 
quickly and she saw tears in his eyes. 

" Mother," cried he with a start, " you 
have surprised me !" and the noble-hearted 
youth hastily brushed away the tears. 
" What ! weeping, my son ?" said the as- 
tonished mother, " how strange ! I never 
saw you do so before ! Tell me what ails 
you ? what drives you to sit alone here 
under the pear-tree ? and what brings these 
tears into your eyes ?" 

And the youth, recovering his compo- 
sure, made reply : " Truly that man has no 
heart in his brazen bosom, who cannot now 



64 tftxmann ani fyoxottyza. 

feel for the destitution of homeless wander- 
ers, and little sense in his head, not to be 
concerned in these days about his own 
welfare and that of his fatherland. What I 
saw and heard this day has moved my heart ; 
and I now came forth to gaze on the broad 
and glorious landscape that sweeps around 
us with its fruitful hills ; to see the golden 
grain bending for the sickle and a rich crop 
of fruit that promises to heap our store- 
rooms full. But oh ! how near the enemy ! 
The flood of the Rhine protects us, it is 
true ; yet what, alas ! are floods and moun- 
tains to yon terrible nation, which is rolling 
hither like a thunder-storm ! They call 
together the youth from all quarters as well 
as the old men, and press powerfully for- 
ward, crowd rapidly following crowd ; and 
the multitude has no fear of death. Ah ! 
and shall a German dare to remain at home, 
and hope, perchance, to escape the ca- 



Mott)tx anir Bon. 65 

lamity that threatens all ? Dear mother, I 
tell you, it sorely vexed me to-day, because 
my name was lately struck off the muster- 
roll of the citizens. I am an only son, it is 
true, and the cares of the household are 
great, and our business important, but would 
it not be better to meet the enemy on the 
borders than to wait for misery and servi- 
tude here ? Yes, I am resolved, and cour- 
age and desire burn in my innermost bosom 
to live and die for my fatherland, and give 
to others a worthy example. Surely, if the 
flower of our German youth were collected 
on the borders, bound by oath never to yield 
to the foe, they could not set their foot upon 
our glorious soil, nor devour the fruits of 
the land before our eyes, nor order the men 
about, nor abuse the women and girls. 
See, mother, in the very depths of my soul 
I am determined to do immediately what 
seems to me just and reasonable; for he 
5 



66 fyzxmann anh $Hoxoti)za. 

who thinks long does not always make the 
best choice. I will not return home again. 
I will go straight into town and surrender 
this heart and this arm to the service of my 
country. Then let father say, if no feeling 
of honor dwells in my bosom, and I do not 
wish to rise in the world !" 

Then rejoined the kind, sensible mother, 
shedding silent tears, which came softly into 
her eyes : u Son, what has wrought this 
great change in your disposition, that you 
do not speak to your mother openly and 
freely, as you are wont to do, and tell her 
sincerely what your wishes are ? If a 
stranger had heard you talking just now, he 
would have praised your resolution as very 
noble, deceived by your words and manner. 
Yet I have only fault to find ; for, see, I 
know you better. You are concealing your 
heart and have thoughts altogether different. 
I know it is not the drum nor the trumpet 



itttfifyer anh Son. 67 

that calls you, nor a desire to appear in 
regimentals before the young girls; for it 
is your destiny, bold and brave though you 
be, to look well after the house and peacea- 
bly till the ground. Tell me then frankly, 
what forces you to this resolution ?" 

Earnestly the son replied : " You are 
wrong, mother. All days are not alike. 
Youth ripens into manhood, often ripens 
better for action in solitude than in the 
rush of a wild, tumultuous life, that has 
ruined many a young fellow. And although 
heretofore I have been quiet and backward, 
yet in my bosom a heart is beating that 
hates injustice and injury, and I understand 
very well what is what; labor also has 
clothed my arms and feet with strength. 
Every thing, I feel, is true ; I dare boldly 
affirm it. And yet you blame me not with- 
out reason, O mother, and have caught me 
uttering words half true and half feigned. 



68 Hermann anh IBoxottyza* 

For I confess, it is not the threatening dan- 
ger that calls me from my father's house, 
nor the lofty idea of being a help to my 
fatherland and a terror to the foe. They 
were only words I spake, to hide from you 
the feelings that rend my heart. And so 
let me, mother ! Since I cherish vain 
wishes in my bosom, my life may pass in 
vain. For I know very well, the individual 
injures, yea sacrifices himself, when all do 
not strive for the good of the whole." 

" Only go on," said the sensible mother, 
"tell me every thing, the greatest, as well 
as the least, for men are passionate and al- 
ways run to extremes, and contradiction 
easily puts them out of humor, but a woman 
is skilful in devising a remedy and takes a 
roundabout way to gain her end. Tell me 
every thing therefore, why you are so vio- 
lently agitated, as I never saw you before, 



Mother anh Qon. 69 

and why the blood boils in your veins and 
tears fill your eyes to overflowing." 

Then the good youth gave free vent to 
his sorrow and wept, wept loud on the bo- 
som of his mother, and spake thus in a sub- 
dued tone : "Father's speech to-day wound- 
ed me sorely. Indeed, I never deserved 
it, now nor ever. For it was early my de- 
light to honor my parents, and nobody 
seemed to me more prudent and wiser than 
they who begot me and guided me carefully 
through the dark season of childhood. 
Much have I suffered from my playmates, 
when they repaid my good- will with tricks, 
yet seldom did I take revenge by stroke or 
blow ; but w T hen they made fun of father 
as he came out of church with sober, 
thoughtful step ; when they laughed at the 
band of his cap and the flowers on that 
very dressing-gown we parted with to-day; 
instantly I doubled up my fist, and in a fierce 



70 Hermann anh iRoxotlita. 

rage, fell on them, and struck blindly right 
and left without looking where. They 
yelled, with bloody noses, and were scarcely 
able to escape my angry strides and blows. 
And so I grew up, in order to suffer much 
from father, who would very often take me 
to task instead of others, when he was 
vexed at the last sitting of the Council ; and 
then I had to pay for all the wrangling and 
trickery of his colleagues. You have often 
pitied me yourself; for I endured a great 
deal, having always in mind the heartfelt 
honor due to the kindness of parents, who 
only aim at increasing their goods and for- 
tune for us, and even deny themselves many 
things so as to lay up for their children. 
But oh ! it is not saving, to enjoy it after- 
wards, that can make one happy, nor is it 
adding house to house and acre to acre, as 
goodly wealth flows in upon us. For the 
father grows old, and the sons grow old with 



itt0tl)cr attir San. 71 

him, without pleasure to-day and with care 
for the morrow. You may look down and 
tell me how glorious and fair the rich fields 
lie yonder, and the vineyard and garden be- 
neath, and the barns and stables, a beautiful 
range of property ; but I see only the back 
part of the house, where in the gable the 
window of my little room under the roof 
peers out ; and I think of the times, when I 
used to watch for the moon there many a 
night, and many a morning for the sun ; a 
few hours of healthful sleep were enough 
for me. Oh ! they seem to me now so 
lonely, the chamber, the yard, and the gar- 
den, the glorious field, that stretches over 
the hill ; all lies before me so desolate : I 
have no wife." 

Then the kind, sensible mother answered : 
" Son, you cannot wish to ]ead a bride to 
her chamber, that the night may become to 
you a beautiful half of your life and the la- 



72 Hermann attft £)0r0tl)£cu 

bor of the day freer and lighter, more than 
your father and mother wish it. We have 
always coaxed, nay, even urged you to 
choose a sweetheart. But it is known to 
me, and my heart now says it : if the right 
hour does not come, if the right maiden 
does not show herself, then the choosing is 
far off, and the fear of taking a false step 
mostly prevails. I must tell you, my son ; 
so, I believe, you have chosen, for your 
heart is more than usually sensitive. Own 
it frankly, for my soul tells me already : it 
is yon maiden, the exile, whom you have 
chosen." 

" Dear mother, you have said it !" was 
the quick reply of the son. " Yes, it is 
she ! and if I do not bring her home a bride 
this very day, she will travel on and vanish 
altogether perhaps amid the chaos of war 
and dreary wanderings from place to place. 
Mother, eternally in vain will the rich in- 



iilotljer attir Son. ^3 

heritance then grow before my eyes ; in 
vain for me will coming years be fruitful. 
Yes, the old house and garden will lose 
their charms : and even a mother's love it- 
self will not be able to comfort my poor 
heart. For Love, when she knits her bond, 
loosens every other ; and it is not the 
maiden only, who leaves father and mother 
behind, when she follows the husband of 
her choice : the young man too knows 
nothing more of mother and father, when 
he sees the girl he loves going off from 
him. Therefore, let me go whither despair 
may drive me. For father has spoken the 
word of separation, and his house is no 
longer mine, when he shuts the door against 
the girl, whom alone of all others I wish to 
bring into it." 

To this the good mother answered 
promptly: "Like rocks men stand asunder 
when they quarrel ! Unmoved and proud, 



Y4 Hermann anfc 1Boxott)za. 

neither will make advances, neither will 
move his tongue to utter the first kind 
word. Therefore, I tell you, son : I cherish 
the hope that he will yet betroth her to you, 
if she be good and honest, although she is 
poor, and he has talked so strongly against 
receiving a poor girl. For he says many 
things in his passionate way, which he never 
does ; and this is one of them. But he de- 
mands a good word, and has a right to de- 
mand it ; for he is Father ! Besides, we 
very well know his anger is after dinner, 
when he speaks violently and calls in ques- 
tion the motives of others, never reflecting; 
the wine stirs up all the energy of his vio- 
lent will, and prevents him from hearing the 
words of others ; he hears and feels him- 
self alone. But evening comes on and 
there is then much talk between him and 
his friends. He is far more gentle, I know, 
when the excitement is over and he has a 



iftctljer anh Son. *75 

lively feeling of the wrong he did. Come ! 
we will try it instantly, for the bold venture 
only succeeds, and we will need the aid of 
the friends who are yet sitting with him, 
especially that of the worthy minister." 

Thus she spoke, and, rising from the 
stone, drew her son also from his seat, a 
willing follower. Both came down in si- 
lence, pondering the weighty matter. 



Cjft CaHttinpnlik 



Meaxwhile, the three sat talking to- 
gether, the clergyman, the landlord, and the 
apothecary ; and the conversation, still the 
same, was kept up briskly by all parties. 
The amiable pastor took up the thread of 
the discourse : " I will not gainsay you. I 
know that man ought to strive after that 
which is better ; and, as we see, he does 
strive after that which is higher ; at least, 
he seeks after that which is new. But go 
not too far! For, besides these feelings, 
nature has given us the desire to persist in 
old age in enjoying that to which we have 
been long accustomed. Every condition is 



80 ^cxmann attir IDartfttyecu 

good that is natural and reasonable. Man 
wishes a great deal and yet needs but little ; 
for his days are short and his mortal destiny 
is fixed. By no means do I condemn the 
man, who, ever busy and active, goes about, 
boldly traversing the sea and all the high- 
ways of the earth, and rejoices in the gains 
which accumulate around him and his ; but 
he too is worthy, the peaceful citizen, who 
walks over his paternal acres with quiet step 
and cares for the soil, just as the seasons 
call for it. Not every year does the ground 
change for him, nor does the newly-planted 
tree stretch out in haste toward heaven, 
boughs adorned with abundant blossoms. 
No ! the man needs patience ; needs also a 
pure, calm, equable mind and a sound un- 
derstanding ; for few only are the seeds he 
is able to entrust to mother-earth, and few 
only the cattle he understands how to breed ; 
his whole thought is bent on the useful 



&t)Z €00ttt0|30lit£. 81 

alone. Happy he, to whom nature has 
given a disposition so gentle ! He it is, who 
maintains us all. And hail also to the ci- 
tizen of the rural village, who adds farming 
to his usual business ! On him the pres- 
sure, which heavily weighs down the coun- 
tryman, does not lie ; the cares of the co- 
vetous townspeople, especially the women 
and girls, who, though little able, strive con- 
tinually to copy after those who are richer 
and higher in rank, do not trouble him. 
Bless, therefore, the peaceful endeavor of 
your son and the spouse of like mind, whom 
he shall yet choose for himself." 

Thus he spoke. At the same moment 
the mother entered with her son, whom she 
led by the hand and placed before her hus- 
band. " Father," said she, " how often in 
our talks together have we thought of the 
happy day in the future, when Hermann, 

making choice of a bride, would fill our 

6 



82 §zxmann ani Wiotottjta. 

hearts with joy ! Our minds wandered here 
and there, marking out this girl for him and 
then again that one. Now the day has 
come ; now has Heaven brought hither and 
pointed out the very bride for him; now 
has his heart decided. Did we not always 
say he must choose for himself? Did you 
not only a little while ago desire that he 
might cherish bright and lively feelings to- 
ward the girl of his choice ? Now the hour 
has come ! Yes, so has he felt and so has 
he chosen, and decided like a man. It is 
yon maiden, the stranger whom he met. 
Give her to him ; or he will remain, so he 
swore, unmarried for ever." 

Then said the son : " Give her to me, 
father, my heart has purely and safely cho- 
sen ; she will prove a most worthy daughter 
to you." 

But the father was silent. Then the 
minister rose up quickly and began : " A 



man's whole life and destiny are decided in 
the twinkling of an eve : for. long as the 
deliberation may be, each resolve is but the 
work of a moment, and only he, who is 
gifted with sound sense, is able to lay hold 
of the right. In choosing, it is always more 
dangerous to think of this one and that one 
together, and thus to distract the feelings. 
Hermann is pure. I have known him from 
youth up ; and even as a boy he was never 
in the habit of running after every new face. 
He was sure of what he desired, and so kept 
it firmly in view. Be not afraid and asto- 
nished, when that, which you have so long 
wished for, appears on a sudden. It does 
not come indeed in the form you had im- 
agined ; for our desires hide the very thing 
desired. Gifts descend from above in their 
own forms. Do not mistake it ; the maiden 
is the first who has moved the soul of your 
excellent son ; and happy is he, whose first 



84 tyzxmann anh t$orott)ta. 

love reaches out her hand without delay 5 
whose fondest desire does not secretly lan- 
guish in his heart ! Yes, I can tell at a 
glance, his fate is decided. True affection 
at once transforms the youth into the man. 
He is not to be moved ; I am afraid, if you 
deny him this, the best years of his life will 
be wasted in sorrow." 

Straightway the apothecary, from whose 
lips the words had long been waiting to 
spring, made a considerate reply : " Let us 
this time take a middle course. ' Make 
haste slowly.' That was the motto of the 
Emperor Augustus himself. I am always 
ready to serve kind neighbors, to use my 
poor understanding for their benefit : and 
youth especially needs a guiding hand. Let 
me go yonder ; I will prove the maiden, and 
inquire of the people among whom she lives 
and is known. No one can deceive me 



©Ije Cosmopolite. 85 

easily; I know what value to put upon 
words." 

Then the son immediately replied : " Do 
so, neighbor, go and inform yourself. But 
I wish our worthy pastor to go with you 
also ; two such excellent men will be unex- 
ceptionable witnesses. O, my father ! the 
maiden has not run hither a mere adven- 
turer, seeking to inveigle inexperienced 
youth by her arts. No ; the wild chances 
of the ruinous war, that is now destroying 
the world, and has already razed many a 
solid structure to the ground, have also ba- 
nished this poor girl. Do not men of high 
birth rove about in misery ? Princes flee 
in disguise, and kings live in exile. And 
she, too, the best of her sisters, has been 
driven from her country. Forgetting her 
own misfortunes, she helps others ; helpless 
yet full of help. Great are the sorrow and 
want, which are spreading over earth ; and 



86 tyzrmann attir V!lot0tt)za. 

shall not one blessing spring out of all this 
calamity, and I, in the arms of a faithful 
bride, rejoice amid war as you did amid the 
ruins of the fire ?" 

Here the father opened his lips and said : 
" How is it, son, that your tongue, which 
for many a long year has stuck in your 
mouth and only moved when dry, has be- 
come so suddenly loosened ? I must now 
experience what threatens every father; 
the mother, all too indulgent, will favor the 
headstrong inclination of her son, and every 
neighbor will join with him against the 
father and the husband. But I will not 
oppose you; where is the use of it ? I al- 
ready see tears and defiance in the back- 
ground. Go and make the trial, and bring 
me home a daughter in God's name ; if not, 
let him forget the girl." 

So spake the father. The son cried out 
with a joyful mien: "Yet before evening 



®I)£ QLoBmopolitz. Si 

as good a daughter shall be presented to 
you as any reasonable man could wish. She 
too will be happy then I hope. Yes, she 
will never cease to thank me for giving again 
to her in you such a father and mother as 
sensible children desire. But I will wait no 
longer ; I will harness the horses at once 
and drive the friends out on the track of my 
beloved ; leaving them entirely to their own 
judgment. I swear to you I will abide by 
their decision, and will never see the girl 
again until she is mine." And so he went, 
whilst the others wisely considered, and 
eagerly talked over the matter. 

Hermann hurried straight to the stable, 
where the spirited horses were quietly 
munching the clean oats and the dry hay, 
mowed from the best pastures. He quickly 
slipped the polished bits into their mouths, 
drew the straps through the well-plated 
buckles, fastened the long, broad reins, and 



88 tyzxmann anft *B$xot\\za. 

led the horses into the yard, where the ac- 
tive groom had already pushed out the car- 
riage, moving easily on its axles. Then they 
attached the mettlesome steeds evenly to the 
swingle-trees with neat cords. Hermann 
mounted the box, seized the whip, and drove 
into the gateway. The friends immediately 
took possession of the roomy seats, and the 
carriage rolled rapidly off, leaving the pave- 
ments behind, and the walls of the town, and 
last of all the steeples. On went Hermann 
swiftly, to the well-known turnpike-road, 
and without delaying drove up hill and down 
hill at a smart trot. As soon as he caught 
a glimpse of the village-spire and the houses 
lying near surrounded by gardens, he re- 
solved to rein up the horses. Now, before 
the village there was a broad green, covered 
with grassy turf and shaded by tall lindens, 
which had rooted in that spot for ages. It 
was used as a pleasure-ground by the far- 



CM Cosmopolite. 89 

mers and the people of the town hard by. 
Under the trees, sunk level with the ground, 
there lay a fountain, with steps to go down, 
when stone benches appeared set around 
the spring, whose pure waters welled forth 
unceasingly, hemmed in by a low wall, con- 
venient for those who came to draw. In 
this shade Hermann determined to stop the 
horses and carriage. He did so and said, 
" Alight, friends, and go and find out if the 
maiden is worthy of the hand which I offer 
her. I sincerely believe it, and you will tell me 
nothing new or strange. Had I to act alone, 
I w T ould go straight to the village and learn 
my fate from her own lips in a few words. 
You could easily distinguish her from all the 
others, for in face and figure she has no 
equal. But I will give you besides a de- 
scription of her neat attire. A beautifully- 
laced crimson stomacher supports her swell- 
ing bosom, and a black bodice fits closely 



90 tyzxmann anh l&8xo\\\za. 

to her form ; she has the neck of her che- 
mise bordered by a clean ruffle, which en- 
circles her rounded chin with a modest 
grace ; the fine oval of her head appears 
uncovered and without ornament, save thick 
braids of hair fastened with silver pins ; her 
blue petticoat hangs beneath her stomacher 
in many folds, and sweeps around her well 
turned ankles as she walks. I will yet beg 
this of you as a special favor : Do not speak 
to the maiden, and let her guess the object 
of your errand, but question the others and 
listen to all they say. When you have heard 
enough to satisfy father and mother, come 
back to me again, and then we will consider 
what is further to be done. So I planned 
it on the way hither." 

Thus he spake. And the friends went 
into the village, where crowds of people 
w r ere swarming in gardens, barns, and 
houses, and cart after cart lined the broad 



SCI}* CtfStncpoIiU- 91 

street. The men were employed about the 
lowing cattle and the horses at the wagons ; 
the women were spreading linen on all the 
hedges to dry, and the children amused 
themselves with paddling in the water of 
the brook. Forcing their way through the 
wagons, men and animals, the two spies 
looked right and left for some form answer- 
ing to the description given by Hermann ; 
but no one of them all seemed to be the 
beautiful virgin. Soon the crowd became 
denser. Then were heard around the wa- 
gons the cries of men and women in high 
dispute. And then an old man quickly drew 
near with a dignified step and walked up to 
the wranglers. The tumult immediately died 
away, when he commanded peace and re- 
buked them with the earnestness of a father : 
" Has our calamity not yet tamed you so 
as to bear and suffer, when the actions of 
one do not suit the notions of another ? He 



92 Hermann attir Hlorotljea. 

who has fortune on his side may afford to 
quarrel. Will not suffering at length teach 
you no longer to squabble with your bre- 
thren as heretofore ? On foreign soil, give 
way to each other and share what you have, 
so that you may find mercy." 

When he said this, all were silent ; and 
the men resumed their labors about their 
cattle and wagons in a more friendly spirit. 
The minister, hearing the speech and ob- 
serving the peaceable demeanor of the 
strange judge, came up to him, and spake : 
" Truly, father, when people live along in 
happy times, supporting themselves from 
the earth, who opens wide her bosom and 
renews the gifts, that we desire, every year 
and every month, then every thing goes of 
itself and each one is the most prudent as 
well as the best in his own eyes ; and so 
they exist side by side, and the man of 
sound judgment is no more esteemed than 



a common man ; for all that happens goes 
on quietly, as of its own accord. But let 
danger disturb the usual course of life ; let 
buildings be torn down and gardens and 
fields of corn laid waste ; let husband and 
wife be driven from their comfortable home, 
dragged forth to spend their anxious days 
and anxious nights in wandering to and fro. 
Ah, then we look around for the man of 
sense, whose words of wisdom are no longer 
uttered in vain. Tell me, father, are you 
the judge of these fugitives, for they in- 
stantly became quiet in your presence? 
Indeed, you appear to me like one of those 
ancient leaders, who conducted exiled na- 
tions through deserts and trackless wastes. 
It seems as though I were talking with 
Joshua or Moses.' 9 

Thereupon the judge replied with a grave 
look : " Surely our time is like few times 
noted in history, whether sacred or profane. 



94 Hermann attir 'Boxot^za. 

For he, who has lived through yesterday 
and to-day, has lived years ; so in all history 
events crowd themselves together. If I 
think back a little, a gray old age seems to 
settle on my head, yet is my strength una- 
bated. Others may well be allowed to com- 
pare us with him, to whom, in an earnest 
hour, the Lord God appeared in the burning 
bush ; to us also has he appeared in cloud 
and fire." 

Now, when the pastor was disposed to 
continue and learn the misfortunes of the 
man and his people, his companion stole up 
and whispered secretly in his ear : " Only 
talk on with the judge and bring the con- 
versation to turn on the maiden. I will go 
around and hunt her up, and will come again 
as soon as I have found her." The pastor 
nodded assent, and the spy began his search 
amongst the hedges and barns and gardens. 



tf Jj* Igt 



To the questions put by the clergyman, 
as to what his company had suffered, and as 
to how long they had been driven from their 
homes, the strange judge answered : " The 
tale of our sorrows is not soon told ; for we 
have drunk the gathered bitterness of years, 
rendered more terrible by the destruction 
of the fairest hopes. Who will dare to 
avow that his heart was not lifted up, that 
purer pulses did not beat in his bosom, when 
the new sun first rose in its splendor ; when 
we heard of the rights of man, of inspiring 
liberty, and of universal equality ! Then 
every one hoped to live for himself; then 



98 §cxmann anb microtia. 

the chains that bound many countries, and 
were held in the hands of idleness and self- 
interest, seemed to be stricken off. Did not 
all nations in those stirring times look to- 
wards that city, which had so long been the 
metropolis of the world, and now more than 
ever deserved the glorious title ? Were not 
the names of those men, who first published 
the glad tidings, equal to the highest that 
find place beneath the stars ? Did not the 
courage, the spirit, and the language of every 
man revive ? 

" And we especially, because neighbors, 
caught the inspiration. Then war broke 
out, and troops of armed French drew near ; 
but they appeared only as bearers of friend- 
ship. And they brought it too; for they 
filled every soul with enthusiasm; they 
planted gay trees of liberty with delight, 
promising to each one his own property and 
his own government. Then were the young 



QL\]c age. 99 

men highly elated, and the old men with 
them, and the merry dance began around 
the new standard. Soon the persuasive 
French won over, first the spirits of the 
men, by their ardent and lively action, and 
then the hearts of the women by their irre- 
sistible grace of manner. The pressure of 
a war so much needed seemed almost easy 
to us ; for hope hovered before our eyes, in 
the distance, and a glimpse into newly- 
opened paths lured us on. 

" O how joyful is the time, when bride and 
bridegroom swing together in the dance, 
looking forward to the day of marriage! 
but more glorious far was the time, when 
the highest good that man can wish ap- 
peared to us near and attainable. Every 
tongue was unfettered, and the speech of 
old and young full of lofty thought and 
feeling. 

" But ah ! the sky was soon overcast. A 



100 §cxmann anb SOorotljea. 

corrupt generation, willing to gain fair ends 
by foul means, struggled into power. They 
butchered one another, and oppressed their 
new neighbors and brethren, and sent forth 
swarms of selfish tyrants. And the rulers 
amongst us rioted and robbed by wholesale, 
and the subordinates robbed and rioted 
down to the very least ; each one seemed 
to care only lest nothing might be left for 
to-morrow. The misery was very great, 
and the oppression increased more and 
more ; no one heeded complaints ; they 
were the lords of the day. Then grief and 
anger took hold of those even, who were 
most cool and moderate ; all thought only 
of the wrong and swore to avenge it, and 
the bitter loss of hope twice betrayed. For- 
tune favored the side of the Germans, and 
the French fled back by hasty marches. 
Ah, then we felt for the first time the sad 
fate of war ! For the conqueror is great and 



£1)£ &ge. 101 

good ; at least so he appears, and he spares 
the vanquished as if he were his own, to use 
him and his possessions at will. But the 
fugitive knows no law, and consumes his 
property rapidly without consideration. 
Then his mind is inflamed, and he strives 
to drown despair in crime. Nothing is sa- 
cred to him any longer ; he turns robber. 
Wild passion lays hold of woman by vio- 
lence, and converts pleasure into horror. 
Everywhere he sees death, enjoys the 
groans of the dying, rejoices in blood, and 
finds a savage delight in howling misery. 

" Fierce rage now sprang up among our 
men, to avenge those who were lost, and 
defend those who remained. All seized their 
weapons, encouraged by the hasty flight of 
the foe, his pale face and his timid looks. 
The tocsin resounded with ceaseless clangor, 
and the fear of future danger could not re- 
strain their terrible wrath. The peaceful 



102 Hermann anir $&oxott)ta. 

implements of agriculture were quickly- 
turned into weapons of war ; then fork and 
scythe dripped with blood, and the enemy 
fell without mercy and without quarter; 
rage prevailed on all sides, and weakness in 
its cowardice and malignity. May I never 
again behold man the victim of such de- 
testable passions ! A raving brute is a 
spectacle far less humiliating. Let him talk 
no more of liberty, as though he were fit to 
govern himself ! All manner of wickedness 
kept down in darkness by the force of law, 
stalks forth into the light of day as soon as 
these restraints are gone." 

" Excellent man !" rejoined the pastor, 
" though you do fail in doing full justice to 
your fellow-men, I do not blame you for it ; 
you have suffered evil enough from the ac- 
tions of the lawless ! But if you look back 
over these sorrowful days, you yourself will 
acknowledge, I am sure, that a great deal 



®t)£ &g*. 103 

of goodness and virtue, which lay concealed 
in the heart of man, has been so brought 
out by danger and the pressure of calamity, 
as to make him appear like an angel, a 
tutelar god in the eyes of his companions." 
Thereupon the worthy old judge answered 
with a smile : " You wisely remind me, as 
we often, after the burning of a house, re- 
mind its afflicted owner of the gold and 
silver that lie melted under the ashes. It 
may be little, it is true, yet even that little 
is precious ; and the poor fellow falls to 
digging, and rejoices when he has found it. 
So I willingly turn in a more cheerful mood 
to the few good deeds which memory has 
treasured up. Yes, I will not deny it; I 
saw enemies become reconciled in order to 
save the town; I saw also the love of 
friends, of parents and of children, dare that 
which is impossible ; saw the youth trans- 
formed at once into a man ; saw the gray- 



104 §cxmann anir tBoxotl)ca. 

haired patriarch grow young again, and the 
child taking the place of the youth. Yes, 
and the weaker sex, as they are usually 
called, showed themselves possessed of 
bravery, strength, and presence of mind. 
Allow me to make particular mention of a 
glorious feat, achieved by a high-hearted 
maiden, who stayed behind with other girls 
alone in a large farm-yard ; for the men had 
marched out against the foe. A troop of 
marauders, in quest of plunder, broke into 
the yard and immediately crowded into the 
apartments of the women. They saw the 
form of the full-grown virgin, who was fair 
to look upon, and the lovely girls just bud- 
ding into womanhood. Ungovernable de- 
sire seized them; without mercy they 
pressed upon the trembling group and the 
high-hearted maiden. But she instantly 
snatched a sword from the side of one of 
them, and struck him down by a powerful 



®J)e &ge. 105 

blow ; he fell bleeding at her feet. Then 
with manly strokes she rescued the girls, 
hit four more of the robbers, and they fled. 
Having locked up the yard she armed her- 
self, and waited for help." 

Now, when the clergyman heard such 
high praise given to the maiden, hope for 
his friend arose in his mind, and he was on 
the point of asking where she could be met 
with? if she had accompanied the people 
in their sorrowful flight ? 

But, at this juncture, the apothecary 
walked nimbly up, pulled him by the coat, 
and whispered in his ear, " Among several 
hundred, I have at last found a maiden who 
answers to the description ! So come and 
look at her with your own eyes ; bring the 
judge with you, that we may hear more 
about her. 5 ' As they turned around, the 
judge was called away by persons seeking 
for advice. But the pastor followed the 



106 Hermann anh ^oxotl)ca. 

apothecary straight to an opening in the 
hedge, when the latter slily pointed. " Do 
you see the maiden ?" said he. " She has 
wrapped the baby in swaddling clothes ; 
and surely, I can recognise the old calico 
and the blue pillow-case of the bundle 
brought out to her by Hermann. She has 
indeed speedily turned the presents to good 
account. These are plain signs and all the 
rest agree ; for the beautifully-laced crimson 
stomacher supports her swelling bosom, and 
the black bodice fits closely to her form ; 
the neck of her chemise is bordered by the 
clean ruffle, which encircles her rounded 
chin with a modest grace ; the fine oval of 
her head appears uncovered and without 
ornament, save the thick braids of hair fast- 
ened with the silver pins ; she sits erect, so 
that we see her noble size, and the blue 
petticoat, which is richly waved in many 
folds from her bosom down to her well- 



«!)* &g*. 107 

turned ankles. Without doubt it is she, 
Come, therefore, and let us learn if she be 
good and virtuous, a home-bred maiden." 

Then the pastor remarked, as he sur- 
veyed the sitter with a scrutinizing eye, 
"Indeed I do not wonder that the youth 
was ravished by her charms, for she does 
not fail even when tried by the proving 
glance of an experienced man. Happy is 
he whom mother Nature has gifted with a 
noble form ! It recommends him continu- 
ally, and he is a stranger nowhere ; every 
one likes to approach him, and would fain 
linger in his presence, if his manners only 
correspond to his beauty. I assure you we 
have found for the young man a maiden 
who will brighten his future life and stand 
by him, through all seasons, with true wo- 
manly devotion. So perfect a form must 
contain a pure soul; and vigorous youth 
promises a happy old age." 



108 Hermann anh JUorotljea. 

And then the apothecary said, by way of 
caution, " Appearances ofttimes deceive ! 
I never trust the outside, for I have too 
often proved the truth of the proverb, 
' Before you have eaten a bushel of salt 
with a new acquaintance take care how you 
trust him ;' time only makes you certain of 
the quality of his friendship. Hence, let us 
first inquire of the good people to whom the 
maiden is known, and hear what they say 
about her." 

" I commend your foresight," the clergy- 
man replied ; " w r e are not wooing for our- 
selves ! To woo for another is a critical 
business." And then they walked towards 
the judge, who was coming up the street in 
the discharge of his duty. The pastor ad- 
dressed him prudently : " Say ! we have 
seen a maiden sitting under an apple-tree in 
the garden hard-by, and making up chil- 
dren's clothes of old calico, which she has 



®l)e &ge. 109 

probably got as a present. Her form 
pleased us ; she looks like a brave girl. 
Tell us what you know of her ; we ask from 
a praiseworthy motive." 

As soon as the judge had stepped up and 
looked into the garden he said, " You know 
her already ; for I told you of the glorious 
feat which yon virgin performed, when she 
snatched the sword and defended herself 
and them who were with her. She is the 
very one ! You behold her vigor, but she 
is just as good as she is strong ; for she 
nursed her aged kinsman till he died of a 
broken heart, when he saw the misery of 
the town and the dangers which threatened 
his property. With uncomplaining spirit 
she has also suffered deep anguish for the 
loss of a lover, a noble young man, who, 
fired by the lofty idea of fighting for free- 
dom, hurried to Paris and soon met a ter- 
rible end ; for there, as well as at home, he 



110 Hermann anb $boxol\\za. 

encountered intrigues and arbitrary power." 
Thus spake the judge. The pair thanked 
him and took their leave, and the clergyman 
drew out a gold-piece (the silver of his purse 
had all disappeared some hours before, when 
he met the fugitives passing by in melan- 
choly crowds), and he handed it to the jus- 
tice and said, " Divide this coin among the 
needy, and may God multiply the gift!" 
But he declined it, and said, " We have 
saved many dollars and much clothing and 
other articles, and I hope we will be able to 
return before they are all consumed." 

Then the pastor replied, thrusting the 
money into his hand, " No one can hesitate 
to give in times like these, and no one can 
refuse to take what is offered in kindness ! 
No one knows how long he may peaceably 
hold what he has, and no one how long yet 
he may be obliged to roam about in foreign 



®l)e Slje. Ill 

lands, deprived of the garden and the farm, 
from which he derives his support." 

" Ay then !" said the apothecary, in a 
fidget, " if I only had some money in my 
pocket you should have it, large and small, 
for your people must need it very much. 
Yet I cannot let you go without a gift, that 
you may see the will, though the deed lags 
far behind it." Thus he spake, and pulled 
out by its strings a purse of stitched leather 
in which he kept his tobacco, opened and 
parted it nicely ; and there lay some pipes. 
" The gift is small," he added. Then said 
the magistrate, " Good tobacco is always 
welcome to the traveller ;" whereupon the 
apothecary praised the canaster. 

But the pastor pulled him away, and they 
separated from the judge. " Let us quicken 
our pace," said he, " the youth is anxiously 
waiting. He ought to hear the glad tidings 
as soon as possible." They did so, and 



112 tyzxmann anir Vbovottyza. 

came and found him leaning against the car- 
riage under the lindens. The horses were 
impatiently pawing the turf; he held them 
in check and stood lost in thought, and did 
not see the friends approach, until they cried 
out and made signals of joy. While yet 
distant the apothecary began to speak; and 
so they drew near. Then the pastor seized 
him by the hand, and, taking the word out 
of the mouth of his companion, said, " Hail 
to thee, young man ! Thy true eye, thy 
true heart has chosen aright ! Blessings on 
thee and the wife of thy youth ; she is wor- 
thy of thee ; come then, turn the carriage, 
and let us drive straight to the corner of the 
village and persuade her to go home with 
us." 

But the youth stood still and heard the 
cheering words of the messenger without 
any sign of joy, sighed deeply and said, 
"We came out on rapid wheels and will 



Cl)e Qlse. US 

return home perhaps slowly and sadly ; for 
since I have been waiting here, distrust, and 
doubt, and care, and every thing that sick- 
ens a loving heart, have assailed me. Do 
you believe, if we do go, that the maiden 
will follow us because we are rich, and she 
a needy exile ? Undeserved poverty is often 
coupled with pride. She is modest and 
active, and so the w^orld lies before her. 
Do you believe that a woman of her beauty 
and manners has grown up without a single 
lover ? Do you believe that up to this time 
she has fortified her heart against the power 
of love ? Do not drive on too rashly ; we 
may have to turn the heads of our horses 
homewards to our shame, I fear some 
youth already possesses her heart, has 
clasped her brave hand and received her 
plighted troth. Ah! then would I stand 
before her ashamed of my offer." 

The pastor had already opened his lips 



114 Hermann attb yHoxottyta. 

to comfort him, when his companion broke 
out in his garrulous way : " Indeed we were 
never put to such odds in old times, for every 
kind of business was then done in its own 
style. If the parents had chosen a bride for 
their son, a friend of the family was, first of 
all, let into the secret, and then sent as a , 
proxy to the parents of the bride elect. 
Dressed up in his best clothes, he waited on 
the worthy citizen of a Sunday, a little after 
dinner, and, having first of all talked so- 
ciably with him about things in general, he 
managed to turn the conversation in the 
right direction. At length, after beating 
about for a long while, mention was casually 
made of the daughter in a flattering way, 
and then of the man and his family, by 
whom he had been sent. The shrewd peo- 
ple marked his design ; the shrewd ambas- 
sador sounded their feelings very soon, and 
was able to explain himself further. If the 



<I be age. 115 

suit failed, then the mortification at getting 
the basket was not so great. If it succeeded, 
then the maker of the match was the ho- 
nored guest at every household festival, for 
the married pair remembered all their lives 
long the skilful fingers that had tied the 
first knot. But now-a-days all that, along 
with many other good old customs, has gone 
out of fashion and every one courts for him- 
self. He must take the present of the basket 
with his own hands and stand abashed be- 
fore the maiden !" 

"Let that be as it may,*" rejoined the 
youth, who had heard scarcely anything that 
was said, and had already made up his mind 
in silence : " I will go alone and learn my 
fate from the lips of the maiden herself, in 
whom I have the greatest confidence that 
ever man had in woman. What she says 
will be good, will be reasonable, that I know 
If it be but to see her for the last time, I 



116 § ex matin an ft £)oxotl)ea. 

will meet once more the open glance of her 
dark eye ; though I may never press her to 
this heart, yet will I behold again the bosom 
and the shoulders which my arms so long 
to embrace ; behold again that mouth, 
whose yea will make me eternally happy, 
whose nay will destroy me for ever. But 
leave me alone ! You shall not wait. Re- 
turn to father and mother ; tell them their 
son has not erred and that the maiden is 
worthy of him. And so leave me alone ! 
I will go back a nearer way, by the footpath 
over the hill, past the pear-tree and down 
through our vineyard. O that I could lead 
home my beloved ! Perhaps I will steal 
along that path with solitary step and tread 
it joyfully no more." 

Thus he spake and gave the reins to the 
clergyman, who with a skilful grasp checked 
the foaming steeds, quickly mounted the 
carriage, and took the seat of the driver. 



Clje age. 117 

But thou, cautious neighbor, didst tremble 
and say, ci Willingly do I entrust soul and 
spirit to you, my friend ; but body and bone 
are not in the safest condition, when the 
spiritual hand takes hold of the worldly 
rein." Thereupon, O sensible pastor, thou 
didst smile and say, " Only take a seat and 
entrust to me your body as well as your soul 
without fear ; for this hand has long been 
skilled in managing the rein, and this eye 
practised in making a turn with the nicest 
art. For we were used to driving; a car- 
riage in Strasburg, when I accompanied the 
young Baron thither; guided by me it 
rolled every day through the echoing gate, 
out along the road as far as the meadows 
and the lindens, among troops of people, 
who spent the day in promenading there." 

Only half assured, the neighbor then 
mounted the carriage, sat like one who is 
preparing for a prudent leap ; and the 



118 tyzxmann attir %Soxotl)ta. 

horses, eager for the stall, trotted off at full 
speed. Clouds of dust rose up under their 
mighty hoofs. For a long while after, the 
youth stood, and saw the dust rise and saw 
the dust settle again ; stood lost in thought 



Dnrntha. 



As a traveller, when he takes a farewell 
glance at the sun, as he rapidly nears his 
goal in the west, sees a like image float in 
the dusky bush and on the side of the rock ; 
wherever he turns his eye, it glides before 
him, and shines, and dances in lordly colors : 
so the lovely figure of the maiden moved 
before Hermann, softly withdrew, and ap- 
peared to follow the path in the corn-field. 
Starting up from his dream of wonder, he 
turned slowly towards the village, and was 
again surprised ; for again the tall form of 
the queenly maiden approached him. He 
gazed intently ; it was no phantom ; it was 



122 fermann anb IDoraityea. 

she herself. With a larger pitcher in one 
hand and a smaller in the other, she walked 
briskly up to the fountain. And then he 
drew near. Her presence gave him courage 
and strength ; and thus he spake to the as- 
tonished maiden : " Do I find you, brave 
girl, so soon busied anew in helping others ? 
Tell me why you alone come to this distant 
spring, while the rest content themselves 
with the water of the village ? It is indeed 
gifted with peculiar virtue and delicious to 
the taste. Do you carry it to that sick 
woman, whom you so generously saved ?" 
After a friendly greeting to the youth, 
the maiden said : " I am already rewarded 
for my walk hither, since I again meet him 
who has done so much for us ; for the sight 
of the giver is as pleasant as the gift. 
Come then, and see her, who enjoys your 
kindness, and receive the thanks of all who 
are indebted to your bounty. But that you 



Dorothea. 123 

may know at once why I came to draw 
here, where the spring gushes out in a pure 
and constant stream, I will tell you : the 
thoughtless people have suffered all the 
water of the village to be muddied bv the 
oxen and horses wading through the foun- 
tain, upon which the inhabitants depend for 
their supply ; and besides, they have pol- 
luted all the troughs and cisterns with their 
washings and rinsings ; for each one thinks 
only of satisfying himself and his present 
wants as soon as possible, and cares nothing 
for what follows/' 

Having thus spoken, she descended the 
broad steps with her companion ; and the 
twain sat down below, on the little wall 
around the spring. She stooped over to 
draw ; and he seized the other pitcher and 
stooped over likewise. x4nd they beheld 
their forms, mirrored in the blue of heaven, 
waver and nod to each other in a friendly 



124 Hermann anh %iaxotl)za. 

manner. " Let me drink," said the happy 
youth ; and she reached him the pitcher. 
Then they both rested, leaning familiarly 
on the vessels ; and she said : " How is it 
that I find you here ? and without carriage 
and horses, far from the place where I first 
saw you ? how did you come ?" 

Hermann looked downward for a while, 
wrapped in thought, then raising his head 
his eve met hers, and he felt calm and as- 
sured. Yet it would have been impossible 
for him to talk to her of love ; her eye did 
not look love, but clear sense, and bade 
him speak sensibly. He soon recovered 
himself, and said in a familiar way : " Let 
me speak, my child, and answer your ques- 
tions. On your account I came hither ! 
Why should I conceal it ? I am blessed 
with two loving parents, whom I faithfully 
aid in managing the house and the estate, 

O O 7 

as the only son, and our business is great. 



Dorothea. 125 

I attend to all the fields ; father looks after 
everything within doors ; and the industri- 
ous mother is the main-spring of the whole. 

But you know very well what a plague ser- 
vants are to a housewife, now by reason of 
their fickleness and now by reason of their 
dishonesty; she is compelled to change and 
only barters one fault for another. Mother 
has long wished for a maiden to help her 
not with the hand merely, but with the 
heart also, in the place of a daughter, who 
died in early life. And when I saw you by 
the carriage to-day so lively and so active, 
saw the strength of your arm and the per- 
fect soundness of your limbs ; when I heard 
your sensible language, I was surprised and 
hurried home and praised the stranger to 
my parents and friends, according to her 
merit. Now I come to tell you what they 
wish, as well as L— Pardon my stammering 
speech." 



126 tyzvmann ani Dorothea. 

"Do not hesitate," she then said; " Go 
on ; you will not offend me ; I only feel 
thankful. Speak out boldly; what you 
are going to say has for me no terrors: 
you wish to hire me as a maid for your fa- 
ther and mother, to look after your well-kept 
house, and think to find in me a strong girl 
used to work and of a gentle disposition. 
Your offer was brief, so shall the answer 
be. I will go with you and follow the call 
of fate. My duty is fulfilled, I have restored 
the sick woman to her people, who all re- 
joice over her deliverance. The greater 
part have already come together and the 
rest will soon do so. They count certainly 
on returning home in a few days ; so the 
exile is ever wont to flatter himself. But I 
cannot entertain such a delusive hope in 
these dreary times, which promise yet 
greater sorrow : for the bands of the world 
are rent asunder, and what will knit them 



Dorothea. 127 

together again save the extreme misery 
which is now impending over us ? If I can 
earn my living as a servant in the family of 
some honest man, under the eye of a kind 
mistress, I will willingly do so, for a wander- 
ing maiden is always of doubtful repute. 
Yes, I will go with you, as soon as I carry 
back these pitchers to my friends and beg 
their blessing. Come ! you must see them 

CD «/ 

and receive me from their hands. 5 ' 

The youth heard the favorable decision 
of the maiden gladly, doubting whether he 
ought now to reveal the truth to her. It 
appeared best to him, not to undeceive her, 
but to lead her home and there tell his love. 
Ah ! and he saw the golden ring on her fin- 
ger, and then he suffered her to speak and 
listened attentively to her words. 

" Let us," continued she 5 "return ! Maid- 
ens who tarry long at the well are always 
censured : and yet it is very pleasant to 



128 Hermann anir SDarottyea* 

talk beside a running stream." So the pair 
stood up and looked back once more into 
the fountain, and sweet desire seized them. 
Then she took the handles of the two 
pitchers in silence, mounted the steps, and 
Hermann followed. He asked for one of 
the pitchers to divide the burden. " No, 
no !" said she ; " an equally balanced load 
is easier to carry, and the master, who is 
hereafter to command, shall not now serve 
me. Look not so earnestly upon me, as 
though my fate were worthy of a thought ! 
It is the destiny of woman to learn to serve 
betimes ; for by serving alone does she at- 
tain at last to power, to that rightful domi- 
nion, which belongs to her in the family. 
Early the sister serves her brother, serves 
her parents, and her life is a continual going 
and coming, or a lifting and a carrying, a 
preparing and a working for others. Well 
for her, if she so accustoms herself to it, 



D0r0if)£cu 129 

that no path becomes too hard, and the 
hours of the night are as the hours of the 
day, that no labor seems too small and no 
needle too fine, that she wholly forgets her- 
self and lives only in others ! For surely 
as a mother she has need of all the virtues, 
when the baby wakens her in sickness and 
craves nourishment, weak though she be, 
and thus cares are added to pains. Twenty 
men joined together could not endure this 
trouble, and they should not; yet ought 
they to look upon it with gratitude." 

Whilst thus speaking she came with her 
silent companion through the garden, as far 
as the threshing-floor of the barn, where 
lay the sick woman, whom she had left re- 
joicing with her daughters, those rescued 
girls, beautiful pictures of innocence. The 
twain entered ; and on the other side the 
judge came in at the same moment with a 
child in each hand, who up to this time had 



130 Hermann anir SDoratfyea. 

been lost to their sorrowing mother ; the old 
man had just found them in the crowd. 
They leapt with delight to embrace her, and 
gazed on their new play-fellow T with wonder 
and joy ; and then sprang towards Dorothea, 
gave her a friendly greeting and begged for 
bread and fruit, but most of all for a drink. 
She handed the water around. Eagerly the 
children drank, and the sick woman and 
the judge. All were refreshed, and praised 
the excellent water. It was slightly acid 
and invigorating, wholesome for people to 
drink. 

With a grave countenance the maiden 
then said : " Friends, this is the last time 
I will bring the pitcher to moisten your lips 
with water ; but when, hereafter, in the heat 
of the day, you rest in the shade and dip 
your cups into the clear spring, think of me 
and my friendly service done more from 
love than from a feeling of relationship. 



t$oxol\\za. 131 

The kindness you have shown me, I will 
never forget. Indeed, I am loth to leave 
you ; yet at this time each one is a trouble 
rather than a comfort to his fellows ; and 
in the end we must all scatter ourselves in 
strange countries, if a return home be de- 
nied us. See, here stands the young man, 
to whom we are indebted for these gifts, 
the raiment of the child and the welcome 
provisions. He comes and asks me to go 
home with him and be a servant to his weal- 
thy parents. And I do not decline ; for the 
maiden must serve everywhere, and would 
be a burden to herself to be compelled to 
sit in the house and be waited on. Hence 
I follow him willingly ; he appears to be a 
sensible youth, and his parents must be like- 
wise, as becomes the rich. And now, dear 
lady, farewell ! Rejoice over the infant, 
who looks up in your face alive and healthy. 
As you press him to your bosom in these 



132 Hermann anh Uarotl)*** 

colored garments, O think of the kind youth 
who brought them and who will henceforth 
support and clothe your friend !" Turning 
to the judge, she said : " Many thanks to 
thee, O excellent man, who hast cared for 
me like a father in many an hour of need !" 
Then kneeling down beside the weeping 
mother, she kissed her and heard her lisp a 
blessing. But thou, O venerable judge, 
didst meanwhile say to Hermann : " Friend, 
I may fairly class you among those shrewd 
landlords, who are careful to take into their 
employ none but persons of capacity. For 
I have often seen a man, who, when trading, 
was strict enough in regard to cattle, horses 
and sheep, take into his house haphazard 
the first that offered, and afterwards, when 
too late, repent of his hasty action. But 
it appears you understand it ; for you have 
chosen a maiden, to serve you and your 
parents, who is honest. Treat her well ! 



Dorothea. 133 

As long as she takes an interest in your 
family affairs, you will not lack a sister, nor 
your parents a daughter/' 

In the meantime a number of the near 
relatives of the sick woman came in bring- 
ing manv things to her and the news of a 
better lodo-ino;. All heard the resolution of 
the maiden, and blessed Hermann with 
thoughts and looks full of meaning. For 
one whispered nimbly in the ear of another : 
" If the master changes into a bridegroom, 
she will be safe enough/' Thereupon Her- 
mann took her hand and said : " Let us go ; 
the day is closing and it is far to town." 
With lively talk the women embraced Doro- 
thea. Hermann drew her away amid many 
adieus. But the children still clung to her 
garments, with terrible crying and tears, 
and were not willing to give up her, who 
had been a second mother to them, till the 
women said : " Be quiet, children ! She is 



134 §zxmann anir ^oxot\\za. 

going into town and will fetch back plenty 
of sugar-biscuit, which your brother or- 
dered for you, when the stork lately carried 
him by the confectioner's, and you will soon 
see her with pretty, gilded sugar-toots." 
The children loosened their hold, but still 
Hermann could scarcely tear her away from 
the embraces and the waving of handker^ 
chiefs in the distance, 



Ummnw ntiit Snrnfjiti 



So the twain went towards the sinking 
sun, who, wrapped about with thick clouds 
that threatened a thunder-storm, shot forth 
from the veil now here, now there, his glow- 
ing beams, and cast over the field beneath 
a lurid glare." " I hope the coming storm," 
said Hermann, " will not bring hail and a 
beating shower ; for the harvest is beauti- 
ful." And they both rejoiced in the waving 
grain, which nearly overtopped their tall 
forms as they walked through it. Then 
the maiden said to her guide : " My kind 
friend, to whom I am most indebted for a 
happier lot, for shelter and employment, 



138 Hermann attir SDaratlject, 

when many an exile is compelled to bide 
the tempest in the open air ! tell me now 
something of your parents, whom in future 
I desire to serve with my whole heart ; for 
if one knows his master he can more easily 
satisfy him, when he thinks of those things 
which are most important in his eyes, and 
has them safely treasured up in his memory. 
Tell me, therefore, how I may gain favor 
with your father and mother." 

To this the youth made answer : " O how 
glad am I, that first of all you ask about 
the disposition of my parents ! Hitherto 1 
have striven in vain to serve father, though 
I take as great an interest in the demesne 
as if it were my own, attending to the farm 
and vineyard early and late. Mother I can 
please, she knows how to prize my labors ; 
and so you, my good girl, can also do, by 
looking after the house as if you thought it 
yours. But it is not thus with father ; he 



Hermann anir Dorothea. 139 

likes some show besides. Do not deem me 
heartless, because I at once reveal my fa- 
ther to you, a stranger. Yes, I swear, it is 
the first time such a word ever passed my 
lips, which are not used to telling tales ; 
but you entice every secret out of my bosom. 
The good father desires to see the graces 
of life, wishes external signs of love as well 
as respect, and he would perhaps be con- 
tent with a worse servant, who would use 
them, and harsh towards a better one, who 
did not." 

Then she joyfully said, at the same time 
moving with a quicker step and a lighter 
grace along the darkening path : " Indeed, 
I hope to satisfy them both ; for the will of 
the mother is like a part of my own being, 
and I am no stranger to the external signs 
of respect. Our neighbors, the French, in 
their earlier times, laid great stress on po- 
liteness ; it was common among peasants 



140 tyzxmann auir SDorotljea. 

as well as nobles and citizens, and every 
man taught it to his family. Among us too, 
on the side of the Germans, the children 
were accustomed to ask a blessing from their 
parents in the morning with kissings of the 
hand and courtesyings, and afterwards to 
keep up their good manners all the day. 
Whatever I have learned and have been 
used to from my childhood, whatever my 
heart prompts— I will show to your father. 
But who will tell me now how I ought to 
behave towards thee — -thee, the only son and 
my future master ?" 

Thus she spake, and just then they 
reached the pear-tree, The glorious full 
moon was shining in the heavens ; it was 
night, the last glimmering rays of the sun 
had vanished. Before them lay in mass 
over against each other, lights clear as day 
and shadows darker than the night. Her- 
mann gladly listened to her question in the 



fittmann anb ftoxottyza. 141 

shade of the noble tree, in a place so dear 
to him, which that very morning had wit- 
nessed his tears on account of the poor ex- 
ile. And as they sat down to rest a while, 
the loving youth took the maiden by the 
hand and said : " Let thy heart tell thee 
and follow it freely in everything." But he 
did not venture to say more, though thev 
hour was so propitious ; he feared denial, 
and felt, alas ! the ring upon her finger, that 
painful token. So they sat together in si- 
lence, till the maiden began : " How sweet 
the moonlight ! It is almost as clear as 
day. Yonder in the town I can plainly dis- 
tinguish the houses and the yards, and a 
window in the gable ; it seems to me I 
could count the panes." 

Encouraged by these words the youth 
replied : " What you see is our dwelling, 
to which I am now leading you, and yon 



142 Hermann anb TRSoxol\\za. 

window belongs to my chamber in the roof, 
which will perhaps be thine ; we are making 
changes in the house. These fields are 
ours j they are ripe for to-morrow's harvest. 
In this shade here we will rest and enjoy 
our meal. But let us descend now through 
the vineyard and garden ; for see, the storm 
is rolling darkly upwards j it gives out light- 
ning and will soon cover the lovely face of 
the full moon." Then they rose up, and 
walked down the field through the heavy 
grain, rejoicing in the splendor of the night ; 
and they reached the vineyard and entered 
its shadows. 

And so he led her down the numerous 
terraces, whose unhewn blocks served as 
steps in the alley. She proceeded slowly 
with her hands upon his shoulders ; and the 
moon, before she was buried in the thunder- 
clouds and left the pair in darkness, shed 



fizxmann auir uloxott)za. 143 

around them a flickering light through the 
foliage. The strength of the youth sup- 
ported the maiden, who hung over him ; 
but she, unacquainted with the path and the 
rougher blocks, missed a step and would 
have fallen, had he not dexterously put 
forth his arm and held her up. She sank 
softly on his shoulder, bosom in contact 
with bosom, and cheek with cheek. Thus 
he stood, motionless as a statue, his most 
earnest desire bound, not daring to press 
her closer — stood, bracing himself to bear 
the weight. And he felt the glorious bur- 
den, the warmth of her heart, and the bal- 
sam of the breath that flowed from her lips, 
sustaining a woman of heroic form with the 
feelings of a man. 

Concealing the pain she said sportively : 
" It forebodes vexation, so considerate peo- 
ple say, if on approaching a house the foot 
trips, not far from the threshold. Indeed, 



144 Hermann aulr ffioxottyza* 

I could have wished a better sign ! Let us 
stop a while, lest your parents blame you 
on account of a limping maid* and you 
appear like a poor landlord," 




10 



exftthlhu. 



Ye Muses, who, ever ready to foster true 
love, have led the excellent youth thus far 
on his way, and suffered the maiden to fall 
on his bosom even before the betrothal; 
help, still further, to complete the union of 
the loving pair ; dispel instantly the gloomy 
clouds that overshadow their happiness ! 
But first of all, tell what happened in the 
house. 

The chamber, where the men sat, which 
she had before left with care upon her brow, 
the impatient mother entered now for the 
third time, talking about the approaching 
storm, the rapid darkening of the moon; 



148 tytxmann anh Woxotljza. 

then of the long stay of her son, and the 
dangers of the night ; and she censured the 
friends in a lively manner, because they had 
parted from the youth so soon without 
speaking to the maiden, and without win- 
ning her for him. 

"Do not make bad worse," said the father 
in displeasure; "for you see we are anx- 
iously waiting the issue of the matter as 
well as you." 

But the neighbor sat cool and collected 
and began to speak : " In such times of sus- 
pense I always feel how much I owe my 
sainted father, who tore all the roots of im- 
patience out of me in my boyhood, so that 
not a fibre has been left behind, and I 
learned at once to wait with a composure 
that few sages can equal." " Say/ rejoined 
the pastor, " what magic art did the old 
man use ?" " That will I cheerfully relate, 
for everv one can observe it for himself," 



Expectation. 149 

said the neighbor. " One Sunday, when a 
boy, I stood impatiently waiting for the 
coach that was to carry us out to the lin- 
dens at the fountain. Yet it did not come ; 
I ran like a weasel hither and thither, up 
stairs and down stairs, and from the window 
to the door; my hands were itching; I 
scratched the table, stamped with my feet, 
and was nearly crying. The man saw it 
all with unruffled temper ; yet, when I drove 
on too like a fool, he quietly seized me by 
the arm, led me up to a window and spoke 
in a solemn tone : ; Do you see the shop of 
the carpenter over yonder, which is shut up 
for to-day? To-morrow he will open it; 
then plane and saw will be in motion from 
early dawn till evening. But think of this, 
the day will come when the master will be- 
stir himself with all his workmen to prepare 
a coffin for you and finish it as soon as pos- 
sible, and they will bring over here the 



150 Hermann anh Woxotl)ca. 

wooden house, which must at last shut in 
both the patient and the impatient, and very 
soon a close roof will be fitted to it. 9 I saw 
it all in my mind as though it really hap- 
pened, saw the boards joined and the black 
paint prepared, and sat patient and waited 
for the coach, whilst the others ran wildly 
around in doubtful expectation, for I could 
think of nothing but the coffin." 

The pastor said with a smile, "An af- 
fecting picture of death does not appear as 
a terror to the wise man, nor as the end of 
all things to the pious. It presses the for- 
mer back into life and teaches him to be 
busy, and nerves the latter to hope in trou- 
ble for a salvation to come ; to both death 
is a source of life. It was wrong in the fa- 
ther to show to a sensitive boy death in 
death. The worth of a noble and ripe old 
age ought to be pointed out to the youth 
and renovation to the old man, that both 



(£%$c rtati0U. 151 

may rejoice in the everlasting circle, and life 
thus complete itself in life." 

The door opened. The handsome pair 
presented themselves, and the friends were 
astonished, the fond parents were astonished 
at the figure of the bride so well matched 
with that of the bridegroom ; yea, the door 
appeared too low to admit the tall forms, 
which now crossed the threshold together. 
Hermann led her up to his parents : " Here," 
said he, " is such a maiden as you have long 
desired. Dear father, receive her kindly ; 
she deserves it. And you, dear mother, ask 
her at once about the whole round of house- 
keeping, that you may learn how well she 
deserves to stand nearer to you." Then he 
hurriedly drew the pastor aside and spake : 
" Honored sir, help me out of this dilemma 
as soon as you can ; untie the knots which 
I tremble to see loosened. I have not won 
the maiden as my bride ; she thinks she has 



152 §ztmann anb UoxoX\\za. 

come into the house as a servant, and I am 
afraid, as soon as we begin to talk of mar- 
riage she will take her leave. It must be 
decided on the spot ! No longer shall she 
remain in error ; no longer can I endure the 
suspense. Make haste, and exhibit here 
also the wisdom for which we honor you !" 
And the clergyman immediately turned to 
the company. But alas ! the soul of the 
maiden was already troubled by the speech 
of the father. In an agreeable manner and 
in a good sense he had spoken : " Yes ! I am 
pleased, my child. With joy I find the son 
has taste as well as the father, who proved 
it at his age by always leading the fairest 
beauty in the dance and at last by fetching 
her home as a wife ; that was mother ! for 
a man in the choice of a bride shows what 
kind of a spirit he has, and whether he is 
conscious of his own worth. But did you 
also need only a little time to decide ? For 



(Expectation. 153 

indeed it seems to me it was not hard for 
him to know what to do ." 

Hermann merely caught a faint murmur 
of the words; his limbs trembled within, 
and the whole circle became silent at once. 

The maiden, deeply wounded by such 
ironical language, as it appeared to her, 
stood with blushes mantling on her cheeks 
and reaching down even to her neck ; still 
she controlled her feelings, recovered her- 
self, and then said to the old man, not fully 
hiding the pain he had caused her, " Indeed ! 
Your son did not prepare me for a reception 
like this. He had pictured to me the man- 
ners of a father, of a worthy citizen ; and I 
am aware that I stand before a man of re- 
finement, who knows how to conduct him- 
self towards every one, according to his rank 
in life. But it seems you do not feel sym- 
pathy enough for the poor girl, who crosses 
your threshold and is ready to serve you, or 



154 Hermann attir JDorotljea. 

you would not intimate how wide asunder 
my lot is from yours and that of your son. 
Poor, it is true, and with a small bundle I 
enter your house, which is furnished with 
every comfort for its gay inhabitants ; but 
for all that I know myself well and feel my 
situation. Is it noble to deal in such jesting 
as drives me back from the very verge of 
your threshold ?" 

Hermann moved anxiously and made a 
sign to his clerical friend to hasten to the 
rescue, to dispel the error. 

He came up quickly, and beheld the sub- 
dued chagrin of the maiden, the pain which 
she endured, and the tears in her eyes. 
Then his judgment told him not to solve the 
difficulty at once, but rather to put her agi- 
tated spirit to a severer test, and he there- 
fore said, " Surely, O girl from foreign parts, 
you do not consider, if in too great haste 
you have bargained to go out. among stran- 



(Expectation. 155 

gers, what is due to the family of the mas- 
ter, whom you are bound to obey, for a 
stroke of the hand determines the destiny 
of a whole year, and a single yea binds you 
to suffer a great deal. The toilsome paths 
of service are not the hardest, nor the bitter 
sweat of perpetual labor, for in this the in- 
dustrious freeman is as much a partaker as 
the slave ; but to bear with the caprices of 
a master, when he blames you unjustly, or 
desires this thing of you and that, in con- 
tradiction to himself, and the violence of 
the mistress, who is easily offended, along 
with the rude and ill-natured manners of the 
children ; these are hard to bear and at the 
same time discharge every duty with prompti- 
tude and alacrity, and never grow stubborn 
or sullen. You do not appear to be quali- 
fied for such a post, since the father's joke 
has wounded you so deeply, and yet nothing 



156 Hermann anir $$otot\)ta. 

is more common than to tease a girl about 
falling in love." 

Thus he spake. The maiden, sensible of 
the truth of what he uttered, no longer at- 
tempted to restrain her feelings, but gave 
way to strong emotion. Her bosom heaved, 
a deep sigh escaped her lips, and while hot 
tears ran down her cheeks, she said, " Oh ! 
never can the man of frigid temper, who 
tries to counsel us in anguish, know how 
little power his cold words have to relieve 
the sorrow, which a sad destiny has laid 
upon us. You are happy and joyful, how 
could a jest wound you ? Yet the least mo- 
tion is painful to a sick person. No, it 
would aid me nothing, even if I could suc- 
ceed in dissembling. That may reveal itself 
now, which may hereafter cause me sharper 
pain, and afflict me perhaps with slow-con- 
suming misery. Let me depart ; I cannot 
stay here ; I will go and seek again my poor 



(Expectation. 157 

companions, whom in an evil hour I forsook, 
choosing what I thought was better. This 
is my fixed resolution ; and therefore I ven- 
ture to disclose to you what otherwise 
would have long lain concealed in my heart. 
Yes, the jest of the father has hurt me 
sorely ; not because I am proud and sensi- 
tive, as ill becomes a servant-maid, but truly 
because my affections were drawn out to- 
wards the youth, who appeared to me to-day 
in the light of a deliverer. For, after he 
first left me on the road he was continually 
in my mind ; I thought of the happy maiden, 
whose image he had perchance already 
treasured up in his heart. When I again 
met him at the fountain, his presence gave 
me as much joy as if one of the heavenly 
host had descended. And I followed him 
willingly, when he asked me to come home 
with him as a servant. Still my heart flat- 
tered me (I will frankly own it) on my way 



158 Hermann attir iBotottyza. 

hither, that I might perhaps be worthy of 
him, if I could some day become an indis- 
pensable prop to the family. But ah ! now 
for the first time I see the dangers into 
which I have run, in order to dwell near him 
with a silent love ; now first I feel how wide 
the gulf is betwixt a poor maiden and a rich 
young man, though she be gifted with the 
rarest virtues. All this I have said, that 
you may not mistake the heart, to whose 
accidental wounding I owe the recovery of 
my senses. For I could only have expected, 
in the concealment of my gentle desires, 
that he would shortly lead home a bride, 
and how then could I have endured the 
hidden pangs ! Happily I am warned, and 
the secret has happily escaped from my bo- 
som, since the malady is still curable. But 
let that pass. After this confession of my 
love and foolish hope, I must remain no 
longer in a house, where I am only exposed 



(Expectation. 159 

to shame and anguish. Not the night, now 
wrapped about with gathering clouds, not 
the rolling thunder (I hear it) shall hinder 
me, nor the torrents of rain, that dash 
fiercely without, nor the raging storm. All 
these I have braved during our sorrowful 
flight, and with the enemy in close pursuit. 
And now I again go forth, as I have long 
been accustomed, to be tossed in the whirl- 
pool of the times, stripped of everything. 
Farewell ! I can stay no longer. It is all 
over." 

Thus she spake and moved quickly back 
towards the door, still keeping under her arm 
the little bundle she had brought with her. 
But the mother seized the maiden with both 
arms, clasping her round the body, and 
cried out in the utmost astonishment, " Say, 
what does this mean ? and these useless 
tears ? No ! I will not let you ; you are 
the betrothed of my son." The father, on 



160 ^ertnann attir IBorottjza. 

the contrary, stood looking on the weeping 
woman with dismay, and said in an irritable 
mood, " So this, after all, is the result of 
my great indulgence, that the most unplea- 
sant event occurs to me at the close of the 
day ! For I find nothing more intolerable 
than the tears of women and their passion- 
ate screams, which throw into utter confu- 
sion what might be easily and smoothly 
settled by the use of a little reason. It 
annoys me to witness these wonderful pro- 
ceedings any longer. Finish it yourselves, 
I am going to bed." With that he turned 
round suddenly and retreated towards the 
chamber, where stood the marriage-bed in 
which he usually slept. But the son held 
him back, and said, "Do not go off angry 
at the maiden. I only am to blame for all 
this confusion, which our friend has unex- 
pectedly increased by his dissimulation. 
Speak, worthy sir, for I have given the 



totptttation* 161 

whole business into your hands. Add not 
to the anguish and vexation ; rather finish 
the whole matter ! for I might not be able 
to honor you so highly hereafter, if, instead 
of employing your superior wisdom, you 
only take pleasure in creating mischief." 

Hereupon the worthy pastor answered 
with a smile, "What wisdom would ever 
have enticed this beautiful confession from 
her lips, and removed the veil from her 
heart? Is not your care suddenly turned 
into joy and rapture ? Speak then for your- 
self! Why should a stranger declare it?" 
Hermann moved up and said, "Let not 
these tears and these transient pains be a 
source of regret to thee ; for they complete 
my happiness, and as I wish, thine also. 
Not to hire an excellent maiden as a servant 
did I go to the fountain ; I went to win thy 
love. But oh ! my timid glance could not 
read the inclination of thy heart; it only 

11 



162 ^ttmann anir iDorotljea. 

saw friendliness in thine eye as it greeted 
mine in the mirror of the placid fountain. 
I was already half blessed in being able to 
lead thee home, but now thou hast filled my 
cup." And the maiden gazed on the youth 
with deep emotion, and did not shun the 
embrace and kiss, the crowning-point of joy 9 
when they seal to lovers that bliss which 
seems to be eternal 

The pastor had explained every thing to 
the others, when the maiden came before 
the father, courtesying with a modest grace, 
and having kissed the hand, which he drew 
back, said, " You will surely pardon these 
surprises ; first the tears of sorrow and now 
the tears of joy. O forgive me that ex- 
pression of feeling ; forgive me this also, 
and let me again find the favor, which you 
lately showed me ! May this first vexation 9 
of which I am the cause, be the last ! All 



(Expectation. 163 

the maid has promised the daughter will 
faithfully perform as a labor of love." 

Upon this the father embraced her, hiding 
his tears. The mother stole gently up, 
kissed her tenderly, and hand clasped in 
hand the weeping women were silent. 

Now the good pastor seized the hand of 
the father and drew off his wedding-ring ; 
no easy task, for it was tight upon his 
linger. Then the mother took it and be- 
trothed the children; she said, " Once more 
let it be the office of this golden circlet to 
knit firmly a bond that will be fully equal 
to the old one. This youth is deeply pene- 
trated with love for the maiden, and the 
maiden confesses that she has like desire 
for the youth. Thus I betroth vou here 
and bless your future days, with the consent 
£>f parents and the witness of friends.' 9 And 
the neighbor bowed immediately and 
Fished them happiness. But as the clergy 



164 ^umann ani IDaratfyea. 

man put the golden ring into the hand of 
the maiden, he saw with surprise the other, 
which had so troubled Hermann at the 
fountain. And he then said in a jocose and 
friendly way, " How ! art thou plighting thy 
troth a second time ? Take care that the 
first bridegroom do not appear at the altar 
to protest against the marriage !" 

To this she made answer : " O let me 
devote one moment to his memory ! and 
pay a merited tribute to the youth, who 
gave it me on parting and never more re- 
turned ! He foresaw it all, when the love 
of liberty, when the desire to act in new 
scenes prompted him to hurry off to Paris 
yonder, where he met chains and death. 
' Farewell !' said he, ' I go ; for everything 
on earth is in motion ; everything appears 
to fall asunder. The fundamental laws of 
the strongest states are breaking down, and 
property is parting from its old owner, and 



(Expectation. 165 

friend from friend ; even love tears itself 
away from love. I leave thee here ; and 
where I will ever meet thee again — who 
knows ? Perhaps these are my last words. 
It is truly said, man is only a stranger here 
on earth ; a stranger more than ever has he 
become. The soil belongs to us no longer ; 
treasures vanish ; gold and silver are melted 
out of their old holy forms ; everything tot- 
ters, as though the world would rush back- 
wards into chaos and night, and build itself 
up anew. Keep thy heart for me ; and if 
we some day find ourselves above the ruins 
of the world, then we will be new creatures, 
transformed, free, and independent of fate, 
for what could fetter him who had lived 
through such a day ! But should it never 
be our good fortune to escape these dangers 
and surround ourselves with joys once more, 
O then, keep my image hovering before thy 
soul, that thou mayest be ready to meet joy 



166 Hermann anh JBaratfyea. 

or sorrow with an equal mind ! If a new 
home and a new alliance attract thee, enjoy 
with gratitude what fate prepares. Love 
them purely that love thee, and repay their 
kindness with thanks. But then, put down 
the moving foot lightly ; for the double pain 
of a new loss lurks behind. May that day 
be holy to thee ; yet prize not life higher 
than any other good, since all possessions 
are deceitful.' Thus he spake and! saw him 
no more, Meanwhile I lost everything, and 
a thousand times have I thought of his warn^ 
ing. Now also I think of his words, when 
love prepares anew for me the fairest hap^ 
piness and unfolds the most glorious hopes. 
O forgive me, my dear friend, whilst I hold 
thee by the arm ! So to the mariner, who 
at last reaches the shore, the most solid 
ground even seems to reel and waver." 

Having said this, she placed the rings be- 
side each other. Then spake the bride? 



(Expectation. 167 

groom with noble, manly emotion : " Amid 
the universal wreck our union, Dorothea, 
shall be the more firm ! We will hold on 
and endure, hold on firmly to each other 
and firmly to the possession of this beau- 
tiful estate. For he who is disposed to 
waver in a time of wavering multiplies the 
evil and spreads it further and further ; but 
he who perseveres in a steadfast will forms 
the world around him. It does not become 
a German to help on this dreadful agitation 
and stagger hither and thither. This is 
ours ! So let us say and maintain it ! For 
those resolute nations, who fight for God 
and law, for parents, wives, and children, 
and standing shoulder to shoulder beat down 
the enemy, will always be crowned with 
honor. Thou art mine ; and what is mine 
now shall be so for ever. I will not guard it 
with solicitude and enjoy it anxiously, but 
with courage and strength. And if ene- 



168 Hermann anir $Hoxot\)za. 

mies threaten at this moment or at any 
time in the future, then I will take down my 
weapons and arm myself. Knowing that 
the house and my loving parents will be 
cared for by you, I can calmly set my breast 
against the foe. And if every one only 
thought as I do, then might would rise up 
to contend with might, and all would soon 
be gladdened by the news of peace.' 9 







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